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COPYRIGHT DEPOSE 



MAN-BUILDING 



MAN-BUILDING 



A TREATISE ON HUMAN LIFE 
AND ITS FORCES 



BY 

LEWIS RANSOM FISKE, LL.D. 



CHICAGO 
THE SCIENCE PRESS 

1907 







U8RARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

APh 8 190/ 

Copyrtffht Entry 

ClXss a XXc, No. 
m 33C. 

COHY D. 



AC 






Copyright, igoi, by 

i CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

Copyright, 1907, by 
ARTHUR FREDERICK SHELDON 



TtaE Science Press 

CHICAGO 



PUBLISHER'S PREFACE TO SECOND 
EDITION 

ALL over the country there is, as never before, 
a tendency on the part of men to study them- 
selves; to search out the causes of growth, phys- 
ical and mental; to discover the fountains of 
power which bring success and happiness. These 
conditions have produced a demand for just such 
a book as *' Man-Building." 

This book was originally brought out in 1901, 
an edition of one thousand copies being printed at 
that time. After receiving marked attention in 
the limited circle in which it became known 
*' Man-Building " was for a time lost sight of. Re- 
cently the re-awakened interest of the public in 
the subjects which the book covers so admirably 
led to a popular demand for it — a demand which 
for some time could not be filled, as all the copies 
which had comprised the original small edition 
had been taken up. In response to this demand 
The Science Press secured the right to publish 
** Man-Building " for a general circulation. 

There are many builders in the world, — builders 



I^REFACE 

of buildings, of books, of pictures, of businesses; 
but the greatest of all builders is the man-builder. 
The industry of man-making heads the list of in- 
dustries. 

Why not, then, a book on man-building ? 

Everybody is in the man-building industry; 
mother with her child; teacher with her pupil; 
business man with employe, and every man with 
himself. 

"Why not, then, a science of man-building ? Why 
not a book to formulate and teach that science? 
** Man-Building" is that book. 

Dr. Fiske names and analyzes the laws which 
control the symmetrical growth of men and wom- 
en in body, mind and character, and he does so in 
such a clear, specific style that no one can fail to 
understand these laws, in the first place, or fail 
to see how to apply them, in the second place. 
*' Man-Building" is practical. The truths of its 
teachings can be applied by men and women in 
their everyday occupations. It is for this reason 
chiefly that we have re-published it and now offer 
it for general distribution. 

THE SCIENCE PRESS 

CHICAGO 



IV 



AUTHOR^S PREFACE TO FIRST 
EDITION 

The author has sought a title for this book 
which would clearly express its character. From 
infancy to mature years there is built up a phys- 
ical and mental structure which occupies a place 
of special honor in the world of being. Man is 
" but little lower than God." This statement is 
based on the high order of his powers. But he 
begins life in a condition of utter feebleness. He 
is, when he reaches manhood, so much more than 
the new-born child because of the operation of a 
building process which must be carried forward 
strictly under prescribed laws of development, if 
the largest results be obtained. 

This is not a text-book, but a book for general 
reading. Yet it embraces the broad principles 
of three distinct but interrelated departments of 
science — the psychological, the physiological, and 
the sociological — all belonging to human life. 
The faculties of the mind are here presented, 
their functions unfolded, and the methods of their 
training carefully stated. The mind acts through 



PREFACE 

the body and is acted upon by the body. The 
offices of this physical structure need to be un- 
derstood and its reactive power considered. And 
each individual is not only an individual but an 
inseparable component of the race. Without the 
world about him man's life would be sadly and 
fatally incomplete. Any attempt to understand 
the individual in the absence of society with its 
institutions, the privileges it presents, and the 
duties it exacts, must be a failure. 

The purpose of this book is to aid the young 
in developing their powers up toward the fullest 
measure of capacity, and to assist the teacher in 
supervising the work of his pupils in their prep- 
aration for the duties of life. There have been 
many able scientific works given to the public on 
Psychology, on Physiology, and on Sociology, but 
none of them have combined a discussion of the 
broad principles belonging to these several de- 
partments of truth in their bearing practically on 
manhood. The aim of these works has been 
simply scientific, not directive as to character or 
to aid in the gaining of the noblest and most effi- 
cient life. The author has sought to answer the 
question, what can be done to help young people 
develop and use the powers of their being for 
their highest good ? In carrying out our purpose 
the niind is analyzed, the functions of the powers 



PEEFACE 

pointed out, and the methods of development 
given. The laws and forces of life are sought to 
be clearly defined, bringing us face to face with 
the privileges offered and the duties imposed. 
He who would make the most of himself must 
understand what his powers are and how they 
should be employed ; what his opportunities are 
and how they can be utilized. This book has a 
positive practical aim in man-building. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



INTRODUCTORY 



I. 


''Know Thyself'^ 


3 


II. 


Man's Dualistic Nature .... 


6 


III. 


The Body a Servant of the Mijnd 


10 


IV. 


The Body an Instrument of Knowledge 

PART FIRST 
PSYCHOLOGICAL 


14 


V. 


Analysis op Mental Life 


31 


VI. 


Mental Potentiality .... 


25 


VII. 


Passing from the Potential to the 






Actual 


29 


VIII. 


The Light of Consciousness . . 


32 


IX. 


The Philosophy of Attention 


36 


X. 


The Training of Attention . 


39 


XI. 


First Forms of Knowledge . 


44 


XII. 


First Forms of Knowledge— Continued . 


49 


XIII. 


Intellectual Training of the Child . 


54 


XIV. 


Mental Growth . . . , , 


m 



PC 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB PAGE 

XV. Second Forms of Knowledge. {Mem- 
ory) 62 

XVI. Second Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
tinued. {Association in the Action of 

Memory) 68 

XVII. Second Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
tinued. {The Life as Perpetuated by 

Memory) 73 

XVIII. Second Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
tinued. {Reproduction as Imagina- 
tion) 77 

XIX. Second Forms op Knowledge— Con- 
tinued. {Use and Abuse of Imagina- 
tion) 83 

XX. Third Forms of Knowledge. {First 

Step — Concepts) 88 

XXI. Third Forms of Knowledge — Con- 
tinued. {Second Step — Judgments) . 93 
XXII. Third Forms of Knowledge — Con- 
tinued. {Third Step— Reasoning) . 98 

XXIII. The Logic of Deeds . . . .104 

XXIV. Training of the Powers of Thought 109 

XXV. Fourth Forms of Knowledge. {First 

Principles) 114 

XXVI. Fourth Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
tinued. {First Principles) . . .120 
XXVII. Fourth Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
tinued. {The First Cause) . . .125 
XXVIII. The Sceptre of the Heart . .130 
XXIX. Feelings Discriminated . . .134 
XXX. Equipment of Feelings . . .140 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAFTEB PAGE 

XXXI. Control and Training of the 

Feelings 145 

XXXII. Involuntary Activities . . . 150 

XXXIII. Will Defined 154 

XXXIV. Dependence of Will . . .158 
XXXV. Motives .162 

XXXVI. Volitions are Caused . . .166 

XXXVII. The Symmetry of Mental Life . 170 

XXXVIII. Character ...... 174 

XXXIX. Training of the Will . . .179 

XL. The Office of Conscience . .183 

XLI. The Training of Conscience . .187 

XLII. The Power of Convictions . .192 

XLIII. The Spiritual 196 



PART SECOND 

PHYSIOLOGICAL 

XLIV. Integrity and Differentiation of 

THE Body 203 

XLV. The Care of the Body . . .206 

XLVI. Brain Forces 211 

XLVII. Development in the Field of the 

Physical 216 

XLVIII. Persistence of Developed Forces 219 

XLIX. Heredity 225 

L. Impairing the Energies of Life . 229 
LI. Interaction of Mind and Body in 

THE Sphere of Morals . . .234 
3fi 



TABLE OP CONTENTS 



PART THIRD 
SOCIOLOGICAL 

CHAPTER PAGE 

LII. Community Life 241 

LI II. Marriage 244 

LIV. Childhood 251 

LV. School Training . . . , .258 
LVI. Education by Contact .... 265 

LVII. The Printed Page 271 

LVIII. Influences of Travel .... 278 

LIX. Commerce ane Industries . . .285 

LX. The City and the Country . . .291 

LXI. Political Forces 299 

LXII. The Church as a Sociological Or- 
ganism 306 



THE GATHERED THREADS 
LXIII. The Complete Man . . . , ,317 



'm 



INTRODUCTORY 



OHAPTEE I 

"KNOW THYSELF" 

Pope has said, " The proper study of mankind 
is man." The theme is the most comprehensive 
of all themes of study next to that of the Supreme 
Being. Because of his exalted nature God has 
" given him dominion over the works of his hands." 
Such distinguished honor conferred by the Creator, 
who cannot make a mistake in judgment, would 
naturally turn our attention to the powers of him ' 
who is thus "crowned with glory and honor." 

In the few thousands of years in which man has 
been an inhabitant of the earth he has wrought 
out diverse and marvellous results. History is a 
record of his deeds. He has displayed irrepressi- 
ble energy of action. Possessing a social nature 
communities have come into being, governments 
organized, laws enacted, and the boundaries of 
nations prescribed. Eestless and ambitious he 
has waged wars, blood has flowed like water, na- 
tional rights have been both defended and tram- 
pled under foot. Centres of civil and military 
authority have been established and then swept 



MAN-BUlLDIlSrG 

away by tlie strong arm of power. Different forms 
of civilization have arisen and been supplanted by 
something that was new. The face of the earth 
has been transformed by art which man has de- 
veloped. The forests have been levelled, the soil 
cultivated for the production of food, cities built, 
railroads devised and operated, steamships con- 
structed, oceans navigated, commerce opened be- 
tween widely separated countries, and the desert 
literally made to blossom as the rose. 

Man has penetrated to the very heart of nature, 
and unearthed the secrets she had hidden away 
since the dawn of creation. Science is his reading 
of the great systems of truth God has ordained. To 
him " the heavens declare the glory of God, and 
the firmament showeth His handiwork." He has 
found out what God has been thinking about, for 
he has traced His handwriting on the earth and 
sky. He has justified the declaration that in pow- 
ers of thought he was made in the divine image. 
He has gone farther than this even, he has scaled 
the battlements of time and caught visions of a 
future world. Reason tells him there is an immor- 
tality of being, that life here, even in its fullest 
measure, is incomplete, and that it points to a sub- 
lime destiny in an eternal hereafter. A being 
possessed of such powers, penetrating so deeply 
into the constitution of things, working out such a 
wonderful history, cherishing such sublime hopes 
presents to us in his nature a subject for study 

4 



K:K0WING ONE'S SELI^ 

which must be attractive, and in the highest degree 
instructive. 

And the importance, the interest of this subject 
to the student of human nature is that it is per- 
sonal, that he who studies the race is studying 
himself, and that he who is studying himself is 
studying the powers, ambitions, and fundamental 
principles on which all society is built, himself the 
microcosm making known the macrocosm. Know- 
ing himself he knows the great world, the human 
universe. The extent and the certitude of his 
knowledge depend on the extent and reliability of 
the powers of knowing. Knowledge is the measure 
of the applied capability of knowing. The student 
studies the life of himself, by virtue of which life 
he is a student. And knowing, he seeks to under- 
stand how he knows ; feeling, the laws of feeling ; 
doing, the conditions of personal activity. The 
result is that he is intelligent as to himself ; self 
is no longer a mysterious energy, an unread book. 
Understanding his powers he knows what he can 
do ; understanding the laws of action of his facul- 
ties he sees how to proceed; looking forward 
to a future he is able to determine its degree of 
rationality. 

Finding also the laws of progress he is able to 
make progress. He sees how the growth of ener- 
gies may be intelligently carried forward. The 
supreme interest of life is its development, to be- 
come what we are capable of becoming ; to secure 

5 



Man-building 

as large a measure of the human as it is possible 
to gain. We need to know the order and work of 
man-building if we would rear the most perfect 
temple of life. He who remains a riddle to him- 
self when the solution is within his reach is unwise. 



CHAPTEE II 

MAN'S DUALISTIC NATURE 

No conception of man is complete or adequate 
which does not recognize his dualistic nature. In 
the human person there is both mind and body. 
Our entire ignorance of the condition and life of a 
disembodied spirit renders it impossible to predi- 
cate any reliable statement in regard to the facts, 
or the action of spiritual forces, in a state wholly 
dissevered from material realities. Not doubting 
that the soul has a future when the body, as we 
here know it, is laid aside, yet it is our purpose to 
consider the human being as existing in and sub- 
ject to the relations we sustain in this world. 

God has created two dissimilar primary sub- 
stances, matter and spirit. Matter, subject to in- 
numerable forms of combination, is made known 
to us by its properties ; spirit is revealed by its 
attributes. Matter has spatial dimensions — length, 
breadth, and thickness; spirit does not possess 



MAN'S DUALISTIC KATUBE 

spatial magnitude, but manifests intensive energy 
— energy of knowing, feeling, willing. But in put- 
ting man as a spirit on the earth the Creator linked 
him with the material universe by means of a 
physical — a physiological or organic — ^nature. The 
body is the house the spirit occupies ; more than 
this, it is an instrument the spirit uses in perform- 
ing its functions ; further still, it reacts on the 
spirit or unites with it in bringing mental products 
or states into existence. While it would be irra- 
tional to hold that brain is mind, yet mental 
action depends on the brain. Tho absence or de- 
rangement of the gray matter of the brain destroys 
or impairs the action of the mind. 

To be more specific, the body performs four of- 
fices in its relations with the human spirit. 

1st. The brain localizes the spirit, securing for 
it a definite position in space for the exercise of its 
energies. 

2d. The brain is a medium of mental action, a 
material organism co-operating with spirit in bring- 
ing mental products into existence. 

3d. The body is the servant of the mind which 
controls this physiological structure in the perfor- 
mance of its various offices through the brain and 
general nervous system. 

4th. The soul or spirit gains a knowledge of 
material objects through sight, hearing, touch, and 
the other senses, all of which depend on the brain 
as an innervating nervous centre, and through this 

7 



MAN-BUILDINO 

nervous organism the mind is impressed, stimu- 
lated, and becomes intelligent. 

Tlie word soiil, as we use the term, does not 
mean simply spirit, but embodied spirit, or spirit 
that has been embodied. We do not call angels 
souls because we do not know that they have a 
physical organization. The life they live is not 
supposed to depend upon or to be connected with 
any material structure. God we know to be pure 
spirit, and as such we speak of Him and worship 
Him. 

We do not base our belief in the dualistic nature 
of man on our ability to solve the problem of such 
a nature, but on the diverse powers and manifesta- 
tions of our life. The body is an object of sense, 
like all material things, but we are conscious of 
thoughts, feelings, volitions ; of hopes, fears, love, 
hatred — innumerable products of our life — which 
can nowhere be traced in nature as properties of 
matter. The mode of union of soul and body is 
certainly a mystery which, probably, we will never 
be able to unravel. Our inability to find the link 
by which soul and body are united does not make 
the fact of such unity, in any degree, uncertain. 
In everything, when we come to the last analysis, 
there is mystery. How the animal body in its nu- 
trition and growth tears the compounds which 
comprise its food in pieces, and builds up its mus- 
cles, bones, and nerves no one can tell. How the 
plant constructs woody fibre out of the gases of 



MAN'S DUALISTIC :?^ATUEE 

the air and the earthy material of the soil, science 
is unable to make known to us. How light wings 
its way through space and pictures on the retina 
of the eye an image of the object from which it 
emanates is inscrutable to the keenest intellect. 

The materialist, who affirms that man is wholly 
a material being, makes a monstrous assumption 
in putting mental powers and products among the 
forces and properties of matter. He takes a tre- 
mendous leap from that which is known in the 
physical world to that which is nowhere deter- 
mined in material things, and sets at naught all 
principles of inductive logic. Underneath his in- 
ferences there are no premises. And, again, the 
idealist who discards matter, making the body and 
all other manifestations of what we call matter, to 
be only an outer form of the mental life — spirit 
the only substance and matter simply phenomenal 
— not only insults our senses but undermines all 
physical science. Idealism, like materialism, is a 
bald assumption, a speculative theory outside of the 
field of both psychological and physical investiga- 
tions. In the life and activities of man we find two 
wholly unlike classes of powers and products which 
can be accounted for only on the ground of a dual- 
istic nature. With the fundamental philosophy of 
the action of the two we have nothing to do ; we 
must content ourselves with the facts of bodily 
structure and mental powers clearly determined, 
the mode of interaction being beyond the reach of 

9 



MAN-BUILDING 

all investigation. The origin of both parts of this 
dualistic nature is synchronous in the inception 
and birth of the human child. 



CHAPTEE III 
THE BODY A SERVANT OF THE MIND 

The content of the word manhood is found in 
the mental qualities of a human being, expressive 
of that which is high in rank, which is noble and 
worthy of admiration. The body is a servant of 
the mind : it not only reflects its spirit but it does 
its bidding. It shares with the mind that which 
is pure or impure ; it carries out the edicts of the 
will, responding to the desires of the heart ; and 
though a servant, it reacts on the inner life to en- 
slave it or else liberate it from the sway of the 
passions. The actual man has physical powers 
and animal impulses from which his manhood 
cannot be severed. 

The body is a structure of varied capabilities 
and wonderful adaptations. It contains a system 
of bones which give form and rigidity, and articu- 
lated so as, without the sacrifice of strength, to 
secure flexibility. The bones are covered with 
muscles, thus providing for both action and loco- 
motion. There is a nervous system of which the 

10 



THE BODY SERVING THE MIND 

brain and spinal cord are the centre, from which 
come the stimulus to action, the power of healthy 
nutrition, and in sensations connecting the mind 
with the various parts of this composite structure. 
There is a digestive apparatus for the conversion 
of the food into blood. The body has a circula- 
tory system, of arteries and veins, with the heart 
as an engine to pump the blood into the lungs, 
and then, on its return, to send it to every bone, 
fibre, nerve, and membrane of the body, for nutri- 
tion and life. It is supplied with a respiratory 
system for purification of the blood by the action 
of the air. It possesses provision for innumerable 
functions having to do with the prolongation of 
life and the healthy and efficient action of this 
complex physiological unit. 

It is furnished with a distinct system of nerves 
whose purpose is to convey the mandates of the 
mind for such efforts as the mental being requires. 
Thus the hand, the arm, the foot, the eye, and 
nearly every part of our physical structure is forced 
into service to meet the plans and needs of daily 
life. There are nerves also which prompt move- 
ments for our good without waiting for an order 
from the mind — acting under an innate impulse — 
in the presence of sudden danger. It does not re- 
quire an effort or command to wink when some 
object is thrust toward the eye. We shrink or re- 
coil from danger when surprised by its sudden near 
approach. This is done before the mind has time to 

11 



I 



MAK-BUILDING 

make a definite plan of escape, yet this instinctive 
action rests back on a mental apprehension of im- 
pending harm. 

That the body was planned for the realization of 
important offices in the career of each human being 
is evident, for illustration, from the structure of the 
hand. Its position at the outer extremity of the 
arm ; its flexibility ; the shape, relative size, numer- 
ous bones and direction of movement of the fin- 
gers ; the sensitiveness of the finger-tips ; the op- 
posite position and co-operative functions of the 
thumb and fingers ; the existence of the palm into 
which the thumb and fingers can be closed, all of 
this in agreement with the movement of the fore- 
arm, attached to the upper arm by a hinge-joint, 
which upper arm is connected with the body at the 
shoulder by a ball-and-socket joint, thus providing 
for the hand a large sweep of motion, with both 
flexibility and strength, and within the gaze of the 
organs of vision, so that, through structure and po- 
sition, there can be intelligent employment of a 
most extraordinary instrument for mechanical op- 
erations, in this we find an appliance of marvel- 
lous range of uses and perfection of powers. Be- 
cause of his mental capabilities man has such a 
hand. The animal could not use it, therefore he 
has not been supplied with it. 

As an artisan, man needed an erect form. Where 
instruments are used, even on the lowest plane of 
physical activity, this is necessary. Could the 

13 



THE BODY SEEVING THE MIND 

animal invent appliances of industry it could not 
employ tliem to any advantage. How would it 
handle the axe in felling trees ; the jack-plane in 
smoothing the wood ; the hammer in constructing 
a building ; the hoe in cultivating corn ; the trowel 
in plastering a room ? And were man a quadru- 
ped, bowed down to the earth, not only would his 
dignity be lowered but his capabilities greatly 
lessened. He is made erect because he is a man. 
While the mind can be trained, it is also true 
that the body can be educated. It is susceptible 
to influences good and bad. What we call skill in 
the arts consists of muscles and nerves trained to 
respond to some mental ideal. A habit is a facility 
of doing in some particular way, amounting to a 
tendency. This tendency may be not only mental 
but physical. The nerves act most fully in the 
direction in which they have before been employed. 
The muscles come under the same law. This 
gives a potency and efficiency to bodily activity 
which it would not otherwise possess. For the 
largest and best achievements in life there should 
be engendered physical habits which are decided 
and imperious, and in the direction of that which 
is consonant with intelligent and moral manhood. 
Man is successful just in proportion to the natural 
and vigorous movement of his activities along 
well-established lines for the accomplishment of 
the best results. The education of the body is 
necessary for its largest service. 

13 



MAN-BUILDING 

CHAPTEE IV 

THE BODY AN INSTRUMENT OP KNOWLEDGE 

The nervous system is a medium of communica- 
tion of mind with the external world. There is no 
other channel for this association. Supposing 
mental energies to be in existence, it is believed 
they would be wholly inactive without the brain ; 
and even with the brain there would be no knowl- 
edge of outer material objects in the absence of 
certain brain-fibres with which the body is sup- 
plied. These fibres perform a variety of offices, 
and introduce us to nature in a variety of ways. 

1st. There are nerve-filaments in great number 
which terminate in the skin. By means of these 
we become aware of the existence and presence of 
material objects, through sensations of pressure 
and temperature. Many qualities of outward 
things are thus revealed to us, such as smooth- 
ness, roughness, hardness, etc., in various degrees. 
We have sensations of temperature for which 
" heat spots " and " cold spots " have definite loca- 
tions in the skin. Through these nerves we are 
supplied with information of value to us in ways 
without number. 

2d. Analogous to the above, but with special 
development and wider range of use, the tips of 

14 



SENSUOUS KNOWLEDGE 

the fingers are exceedingly sensitive as instru- 
ments of touch. From the number of joints in 
the fingers and the freedom of local movements, 
together with the sweep of the arms these nerves 
of touch are capable of rendering very important 
service in our daily experience. 

3d. The olfactory nerves, which terminate in 
the lining membrane of the nostrils, are adapted to 
reveal the presence and quality of gaseous or vola- 
tile substances. Through these nerves we have 
the sense of smell, which, while not very greatly 
educative and rather restricted in its field of ser- 
vice, yet both for protection against that which is 
hurtful, and, at times, a source of real enjoyment, 
imparts knowledge we could not otherwise acquire. 

4th. There are gustatory nerves terminating in 
the tongue and soft palate by which we have the 
sense of taste. Taste is possible only as the sub- 
stance is or becomes liquid. That which is wholly 
insoluble is tasteless. Taste is not always a sim- 
ple sensation, but commonly is modified somewhat 
by pressure and smell, the relative proportion of 
the three being not clearly discriminated. 

5th. The organ of hearing is the ear, the outer 
portion being so constructed as to gather vibra- 
tions of the air, which vibrations are transmitted to 
what is called the auditory nerve, which carries 
them to the brain. This nerve is sensitive to 
vibrations when they are not less than sixteen nor 
more than 36,000 in a second of time. Between 

15 



MAN-BUILDING 

these extremes sounds are produced of every grade 
of pitch and effect on the sense of hearing. 

The value of the ear as an instrument of knowl- 
edge can scarcely be overestimated. The objects 
of cognition in touch, taste, and smell must be in 
immediate contact with portions of the body. 
Hearing, however, operates through a wide range 
of space. It greatly enlarges our world of experi- 
ence. It increases our joys and adds to our effici- 
ency in every domain of activity. It creates the 
human voice ; it converts the vibrations of the 
stringed instrument into music ; it fills the great 
organ with praise to the mighty Euler of all things. 
It breathes accents of love, and awakens tones 
which bespeak the majesty of the human will. 
For, be it remembered, that where there is no ear 
there is no music, no sound, soft or loud. The 
vibrations of the air are not hearing, they have no 
harmony, only as the ear catches them up and car- 
ries the impressions received to the brain, there 
stirring the soul. 

6th. Through the sense of sight, the mind has 
its broadest field of knowledge. The eye is the 
soul's most perfect window, as it seeks to scan 
this outer world as a wonderful mechanism, and in 
its interdependent movements. The scientist tells 
us that through all interstellar space there is an 
ether connecting these worlds together. What- 
ever other office it may fill, it renders a most as- 
tonishing service as a medium of light. The 

16 



SEifSUOUS KNOWLEDGE 

learned world agree in this, that what we call light 
is a result of sensations produced by certain yibra- 
tions in this ether, coming in contact with a spe- 
cial nerve in the eye, which communicates with the 
brain. When this is set in motion at the rate of 
18,000,000 of vibrations per second, impinging on 
the nerves of temperature, we get a sensation of 
heat. But to secure a sensation of light through 
the optic nerve, the ether must have a vibration, 
at the lowest, of 462,000,000,000 a second, ranging 
up to 773,000,000,000, which is the outer limit of 
color. Below the former and above the latter 
darkness prevails. For each color there is a spe- 
cial rate of vibrations, the lowest giving red, the 
highest violet. As these streams of light enter 
the eye, they converge to a focus on the retina, 
affording the sensation of sight. If the eye is in 
a healthy state an image is formed on the retina 
sufficiently intense to make the object from which 
the light emanates visible, provided enough light 
has passed through the pupil for this purpose. 
The problem is twofold, focalization and intensity. 
Nearness of the object is an element in the prob- 
lem only as it bears on these two conditions. 
The telescope brings stars into view, by collecting 
the light, which, without it, would not enter the 
eye. It is on the same principle the microscope 
operates. 

Thus we do not need to wing our flight from 
world to world, to peer into the chambers of this 

17 



MAN-BUILDING 

great universe. This we could not do, should 
we desire it ; but God opens the eyes of the soul 
through this marvellous mechanism of vision, and 
we stand face to face with far-off spheres. All 
nature is aglow because the mind translates these 
vibrations of ether into pictures which tell of 
God's wondrous works. As there is no sound 
without an auditory nerve, so there is no light 
without the optic nerve, with the brain and mind. 
The soul through this nervous mechanism lights up 
the stars, drives darkness from the face of nature, 
and fills the world with beauty. Without the eye 
there are vibrations but not light. 

It is apparent, without further discussion, that 
the body is endowed with special organs, by which 
it puts the soul in direct relation with outer reali- 
ties, supplying conditions of knowledge and mental 
greatness. This material frame is not to be de- 
spised, for in association with it alone can man be 
great and find the Infinite through His works. 



18 



PART FIRST 

PSYCHOLOGICAL 



CHAPTEB V 

ANALYSIS OF MENTAL LIFE 

A MENTAL faculty is a mode of energy. The 
mind is not a collection of faculties as distinct en- 
tities, but rather a mental unit capable of many 
and diverse forms of action. Unlike the body, 
which is made up of parts each having a special 
office, the unity consisting of an aggregation of 
these separable parts, the substance of mind is 
simple — it is single in its entity, but multiform in 
its powers. And it is rarely, if ever, true that one 
form of energy exists alone ; modes mingle and 
coalesce ; there is coaction, and the products of 
these modes are composite. 

The most general division of mind is into Intel- 
lect, Sensibilities, and Will. The functions of these 
powers as appearing in the products of their action 
are respectively Knowing, Feeling, and Willing. 
In this place we characterize them simply in a gen- 
eral way, reserving the analytical discussion of 
them for chapters that will follow. 

The action of the intellect is fourfold. To know 
is not always to put forth the same energy. 

31 



MAN-BUILBIKC 

1st. In its simplest form, knowing is to discern 
some object that is present within the reach or ap- 
prehension of one or more of the senses, such as 
touch, taste, or sight. This is direct, and the most 
elementary of all forms of cognition. The mind is 
also able to look within itself, and find its thoughts, 
feelings, and volitions ; to know that it is thinking, 
to see its thoughts ; to know that it is feeling, to 
discern the quality of its emotions, whether pleas- 
urable or painful ; to find its volitions and appre- 
hend their character, the nature of the choice the 
mind is making. 

2d. The mind is able to represent to itself ob- 
jects and events as known and discerned in the 
past — in memory recalling that which has been 
previously experienced, and just as it transpired ; 
or in imagination taking up the past more or less 
modified in the mental image formed. By virtue 
of this power the treasures of knowledge are pre- 
served, and acquisitions do not perish as soon as 
gained. 

3d. The mind is capable of perceiving not only 
objects, but the relations existing between objects 
through resemblance and difference, thus putting 
the content of our perceptions into classes, unify- 
ing knowledge. As the result of this, language is 
made more comprehensive and significant, and the 
world of thought is organized. The groundwork 
is thus laid for reasoning, premises are supplied 
for inferences, and knowledge becomes extended. 

22 



ANALYSIS OF MENTAL LIFE 

This is not the work of the senses ; it is more than 
a perception of things or a recall of the past ; it is 
the understanding of things in their dependence, 
co-operation, and causation, the part each reality 
plays in the world of matter or mind. As a result 
of this society becomes a possibility, opportunities 
are opened before us, responsibilities come into ex- 
istence, duties press upon us, rights are created, 
government has a field for action, rewards may be 
given and punishments inflicted, the human race 
is made capable of advancement so that it can ful- 
fil a sublime destiny. 

4th. There is still another faculty of cognition 
which, in our enumeration, completes the sum of 
intellectual powers — it is that of the reason, or in- 
tuitions. By this faculty we do not perceive indi- 
vidual objects through the outer or inner sense ; we 
do not recall past cognitions ; we do not carry for- 
ward a process of reasoning ; we do not draw con- 
clusions, but we discover first principles, realities 
fundamental to all perceptions and ' reasoning. 
When an event occurs the mind in its very nature 
knows there must be a cause for such event ; when 
there are properties, it knows there must be sub- 
stance possessing these properties ; when there are 
thoughts, it knows there is a thinker ; if there be a 
creation, there must be a Creator. To deny such 
underlying principles would be an absurdity. It 
is unthinkable that there can be a product without 
a producing energy ; that there can be phenomena 

23 



MAN-BUILDING 

without a force in action ; that there can be body 
without space ; that there can be events without 
time. These are implied truths, and they cannot 
be conceived to be non-existent. The mind finds 
fundamental principles as the basis of all that is 
built or constituted. That which is dependent 
must have support. These are not inferences of 
thought, but an underlying necessity in being and 
thought. 

Along with knowing comes feeling — an interest, 
more or less marked, in the object of knowledge, 
pleasurable emotions in view of the good per- 
ceived, painful emotions when evil or harm is ap- 
prehended. In the entire absence of cognition, 
emotions could not arise ; with cognition they can- 
not be wholly prevented. They are both a prod- 
uct of knowledge and a stimulus to the gaining of 
knowledge. Were our cognitions absolutely color- 
less, without interest to us, no awakening of hope 
or fear, pleasurable reminiscences or anticipations, 
or painful experiences — an utter indifference — the 
intellect would slumber in non-action. 

The sensibility also arouses the will to action. 
No choice is ever made when the sensibility is ab- 
solutely quiescent, when it is at the zero point. 
There must be a feeling of right as well as a judg- 
ment of right, a feeling of expediency as well as a 
conception of expediency, in order to stir the will 
to choose and do. With both cognition and feel- 
ing at the threshold of the will — illumination and 

34 



MENTAL POTENTIALITY 

aroused interest — the conditions are supplied for 
choice and execution. 

By means of the intellect we know, by means of 
the sensibility we feel, and by means of the will 
we choose ; and in their co-operative action there 
is the movement and experience of man's mental 
life. 



CHAPTEK VI 

MENTAL POTENTIALITY 

To speak of a new-born child as being able to 
think, or even to know, is to utter an absurdity. 
Knowledge is a product of the discriminating ac- 
tion of intellectual faculties, and thinking is the 
employment of these faculties on some object or 
objects of attention. In the beginning of its life 
the child is wholly destitute of any mental acqui- 
sitions, and to get knowledge there must be differ- 
entiated operations of the energies of mind. A 
nervous impression from a physical environment, 
through the eye or ear, the sense of taste or the 
skin, is not knowledge and does not depend on 
thought, but it does and must precede thought. 
In saying this we are not to be understood as af- 
firming the absence of mental susceptibilities. The 
child does not begin its life on the earth as a non- 
entity, but as an undeveloped entity. In its future 

25 



MAN-BUILDING 

there is growth, but growth does not originate be- 
ing, it unfolds it. 

Every individual begins existence as a mental 
potentiality possessing special and definite ele- 
ments of capability. In potentiality are involved 
the extent and range of the powers of manhood, 
the relative strength of the powers, the nature and 
quantum of intellectual ability that can be wrought 
out, the peculiarities and traits that will make the 
personality of the grown-up man or woman. 

In this we have the manifestation of a law which 
bears universal sway in the organic world. The 
germ of the wheat determines the character of the 
plant which will spring from it as to its place in 
the class of cereals, and even its variety. This 
principle holds throughout the entire vegetable 
kingdom. Paul in his illustration of a great truth 
refers to this law when he says, " God giveth to 
every seed its own body." Through the whole an- 
imal world there is the transmission of being on 
the lines of ancestry, even extending to instinct 
and traits of the inner life. The lion, the tiger, 
and the hyena come into the world with a savage 
nature. Not only are some animals physically 
carnivorous and others herbivorous, but there is 
a radical mental difference appearing at the very 
threshold of their existence, belonging to their 
nature from the beginning. In the origin of the 
human being there is provided not only the struct- 
ure of the body as to its size, the color of the eyes 

86 



MENTAL POTENTIALITY 

and hair, the features of the face and every charac- 
teristic by which the person will be physically dis- 
tinguished from others, but innumerable mental 
peculiarities comprising a distinct individuality, 
all of this preparatory to the development of the 
child, and indeed establishing the lines on which 
the child will develop. It is said that " poets are 
born, not made ; " that oratory is a soul-power 
in existence before culture is gained or rhythm 
learned ; that the true painter before he handles a 
brush possesses within himself a gift and spirit 
which push him out into a world of beauty. Some 
persons are born to be mathematicians, others lin- 
guists, and others to be masters in the world of 
science or of art. 

Not only is it true that a human soul is human 
as distinguished from the lower animal world, but 
that individuals start in infancy with unlike ten- 
dencies and unequal mental energies ; that there is 
a mental variety from the inception of life. The 
embryonic Webster was not the same as the em- 
bryonic Shakespeare ; the normal development of 
native powers carried them on to an unlike destiny. 
Ulysses S. Grant was not born an orator, nor 
Demosthenes to be a great soldier ; but each pos- 
sessed diverse mental qualities of a high order. 

The life each is fitted to live is settled before 
birth, but the life that each does live is mostly a 
matter of choice in after years. There is not ab- 
solute sameness of powers, but much less inequal- 

27 



MAN-BUILDING 

ity in our mental outfit than the actual career of 
different persons would seem to indicate. All can- 
not be great logicians, or distinguished artists, 
profound mathematicians, or successful inventors, 
but each is supplied with native talents up to a 
higher plane than is now usually occupied. The 
greatest of all industries is the making of men, to 
strengthen, ennoble, and render mighty the race of 
human intelligences. The problem is twofold — of 
spirit and mode of procedure. A large percentage 
of the people aspire to nothing higher than the low 
plane of ordinary mental experience. To obtain the 
means of livelihood, or, somewhat more aspiring, 
to gain wealth, is the sole aim of their ambition. 
To them money is more than manhood. If our 
young people could be made to understand the 
relative values of the various objects of pursuit 
more would be accomplished. Blindness must 
give way to sight. The rational mode of proced- 
ure must depend on a knowledge of the faculties 
of the mind and the most effective condition for 
their employment. To bring out these facts and 
truths is the special aim of the present treatise. 
That which is provided for in our potentiality 
should be reached in the experience of each indi- 
vidual. How does mind grow, and how can it be 
brought to realize the true and sublime purpose of 
its creation ? 



S8 



FKOM THE POTENTIAL TO THE ACTUAL 



CHAPTEE VII 

PASSING FROM THE POTENTIAL TO THE 
ACTUAL 

The child begins life in the midst of innumer- 
able objects of sense. Its environment is wholly 
physical, nothing touches its being but that which 
is material in its nature. Mentally it dwells in 
fog-land. Light forms images on the retina ; the 
vibrations of the air act upon the auditory nerve ; 
the gustatory and olfactory nerves are stimulated ; 
the hand of the mother presses upon the body ; 
hunger impels to the taking of food ; there is, it 
may be, the pricking of a pin or some other cause 
of pain ; the hands and feet in moving come in 
contact with material objects ; day and night alter- 
nate, and sounds vary in their quality and inten- 
sity. Thus there is constant variety in the states 
through which the child passes. These are con- 
ditions antecedent to knowledge, but of themselves 
they do not constitute knowledge, and the infan- 
tile mind is not capable of drawing knowledge 
from them. Sensations are awakened which differ 
radically from each other, they crowd in upon the 
spirit but do not suggest the objects or causes 
which have produced them. The sensations are not 
even appreciated as differing one from the other, 

29 



MAN-BUILDING 

Gradually, however, as these sensations are re- 
peated through the weeks and months, there is de- 
veloped the power of discrimination. The bright 
picture makes an appreciably different impression 
from the hurt the foot receives ; music stirs in 
a way unlike the hunger that craves satisfaction. 
The fog that had enveloped the intellect thins out ; 
differences which have been but dimly apprehended 
become more marked until objects are distinctly 
perceived in the action of the several senses. This 
is the beginning of knowledge. When the mental 
differentiation has become complete, the ability to 
think has made its appearance. 

Infancy is utter mental weakness. With eyes, at 
the early stage, the child intellectually does not see ; 
with ears, it does not hear ; with brains, it does 
not know or think until power is developed through 
contact, in innumerable ways and for a period of 
time, with material things. Were it not for the 
body with its various organs and its system of 
nerves, and the outer world as a material struct- 
ure, existing in innumerable forms and appearing 
in phenomena in countless variety, there would be 
no mental development, the spirit would never 
gain the power of discrimination. But it does not 
follow from this that the mind in learning is re- 
stricted to objects of sense, only that sense opens 
to us the world of knowledge which could not 
otherwise be penetrated, and in our future study 
it will be seen that, with this beginning, truth 

30 



TEOM THE POTENTIAL TO THE ACTUAL 

may be found also far out beyond the realm of 
sense. 

The child gains some apprehension of external 
realities before there is any conception of self. He 
looks at his hands and feet before gaining the no- 
tion of selfhood — before conceiving of these hands 
and feet as belonging to himself. But the daily 
happenings in his life — as the impinging of objects 
against the skin, especially if sufficiently violent 
to cause pain — contribute to the development of a 
realization of self. In the various activities of the 
body there is ground for such suggestion. The 
twofoldness of bodily sensations also helps him 
to make the discrimination between self and the 
things that are about him. In the handling of a 
ball or a block there is a sensation of feeling in 
the hand ; in the squeezing of his foot by the hand 
there is a sensation in both the hand and foot. 
Various bodily processes are carried forward with 
dawning intelligence until the child knows himself 
as a living, feeling, self-acting being, and after a 
little he gains notions of personal ownership, of 
rights, duties, and of many other interests of his 
individual existence. 

When consciousness has been fully established 
so that there is a sharp discrimination between 
the me and the not-me^ and the child looks upon 
himself as a being separate from others — a person 
in the midst of objects external to himself, the 
stage of reliable knowledge has been gained, and 

31 



MAN-BUILDING 

thinking has now begun. Memory does not reach 
beyond this point, and, ordinarily but dimly re- 
calls these early experiences. When knowledge 
becomes organized and thinking is carried forward 
on distinct and sharp lines, the impressions in the 
mind are so well defined as to persist through the 
years that follow. 



CHAPTEE YIII 

THE LIGHT OF CONSCIOUSNESS 

There are times, as, for instance, in profound 
sleep, when the mind is in a state of utter oblivi- 
ousness, when it does not realize its own existence 
or the existence of any physical or mental realty. 
We speak of it as being unconscious. Conscious- 
ness is a state of awareness, the mind apprehend- 
ing, being alive to its own operations — of know- 
ing, feeling, willing — a realization of that which 
is transpiring. 

Consciousness is knowledge. 1. It is a gazing 
upon, a recognition of the states of the soul. 2. 
It is a recognition of the ego to which these states 
belong. 3. There is a recognition of the object 
giving rise to such states. That is, the mind knows 
itself as knowing, it realizes what it is that it 
knows, and it is aware of the objects to which its 

3g 



THE LIGHT OF CONSCIOUSNESS 

mental states relate — which are the occasion of 
these states. It is conscious of sight, of itself as 
seeing, and of the object to which sight is directed. 
It beholds itself as stirred by emotions and dis- 
cerns in the same act that which causes these emo- 
tions. It discovers the purposes formed as formed 
by self and in relation to the subject on which they 
are based. Etymologically the term consciousness 
comes from the compound Latin word conscientia, 
{con — with, scientia — knowledge), meaning joint 
knowledge, synthetic knowledge. " Knowledge of 
one thing or object in connection or relation with 
another." That is, it includes the ego that thinks, 
the state of the ego as thinking, and that upon 
which the thought is employed. 

Consciousness does not originate knowledge but 
discerns and recognizes it when originated. That 
which we learn comes into view in and by the 
learning of it. It is a power surely, for it is dis- 
tinct from the energy which gives rise to the 
knowledge. It does not create the content of the 
mind, but sees and knows it, and therefore it must 
be a mental force. It does not tell us how we have 
discovered the truth or the opinions formed, but it 
is an awareness of what the opinions are. 

It must be conceded that consciousness is relia- 
ble in certifying to the fact of opinions or views 
held, though the reasoning in forming such opin- 
ions or ideas may be unreliable. Consciousness 
is not a logician, but a sharp and infallible ob- 

33 



MAN-BUILDING 

server. It must not be made responsible for our 
theories or systems of thought, it can only assert 
that they exist and tell us what they are. It is an 
unimpeachable witness as to a mental fact but says 
nothing as to the correctness of the grounds of the 
alleged fact. We cannot deny the certification of 
consciousness : this is beyond dispute. When it 
beholds joy or sorrow the emotion exists ; when it 
affirms hope or despair as filling the soul it does 
not and cannot make a mistake. Our reasoning 
may be at fault but consciousness never. 

But it must be remembered that we can gain no 
knowledge whatever in the absence of conscious- 
ness. Knowledge cannot be brought into exist- 
ence and kept out of sight ; it cannot be elaborated 
in unilluminated chambers of the soul ; in coming 
to be it does and must make itself known. 

But while the foregoing statement is true it must 
not be supposed that knowledge remains continu- 
ously in consciousness. While it can never be un- 
consciously acquired, it may afterward pass out of 
sight. The greater part of knowledge at any mo- 
ment of time is not directly v/ithin our view^, though 
not lost. Hamilton says, " I know a science or 
language, not merely while I make a temporary use 
of it, but inasmuch as I can apply it when and how 
I will. Thus the infinitely greater part of our 
spiritual treasures lies always beyond the sphere 
of consciousness, hid in the obscure recesses of 
the mind." This is sometimes designated poten- 

34 



THE LIGHT OF CONSCIOUSNESS 

tial knowledge in distinction from the actual or 
immediate. Consciousness takes cognizance only 
of that which is here and now present to the eye 
of the mind. 

The wisdom of this law of life by which the con- 
scious passes into the unconscious is worthy of 
special notice. Were the mind constantly occu- 
pied with all it has ever seen, felt, or planned, the 
whole past being always in view, progress would 
soon come to an end. It cannot sharply spread its 
gaze over a multiplicity of objects at the same time. 
It becomes less distinct as the view widens. By 
fixing the mind on a limited field of observation 
the vision performs effective work, additions are 
made to the repertory of thought, and the soul 
becomes rich by this accumulation of treasures. 

Consciousness exists in varying degrees of clear- 
ness. This depends on the vigor and intensity of 
action of the mental life. When the mind is slug- 
gish and weak in its movements, and inapprecia- 
tive in its spirit, the work is sure to be but poorly 
done. The knowledge gained is not sharply de- 
fined, and consequently the consciousness of the 
same is correspondingly dull. Along with a sleepy 
intellect there will be sure to go a consciousness 
that is dim. 

As consciousness must be developed, the child 
begins its life without its illumination because of 
the absence of ability to formulate knowledge. As 
it gains the ability to differentiate and classify, and 

35 



MAN-BUILDIISra 

hence to recognize thinking and other mental ex- 
periences, these operations stand out with sufficient 
clearness to engage the attention. The intellect 
cannot see unless there is something to be seen. 
When the child has a content of knowledge in his 
experiences he becomes aware of it. That which 
is most distinctly wrought in the soul is most 
vividly there. Hence consciousness is a gauge of 
the activities of our mental life. 



CHAPTEK IX 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ATTENTION 

The mind does not passively gain knowledge. 
It is not like the wax receiving impressions from 
the seal. It is not a reservoir into which knowl- 
edge flows. It is not a receiver, but a producer. 
It creates knowledge, which is an apprehension 
and interpretation of realities on which the mind 
employs its powers. 

The dawning of intelligence is seen in and takes 
place through an awakened attention. Attention 
is involved in consciousness. To have knowledge 
and perceive what that knowledge is, is possible 
only when the gaze is turned on some object. To 
be awake, therefore, to realize our surroundings, to 
pass through any form of experience is to dwell in 

36 



PHILOSOPHY OF ATTENTION 

an observant state, a state of attention. This is a 
statement of a fundamental law of intelligence. 
We call it primary attention because it is primary 
and universal in mental action — there could be no 
consciousness without it. It is tbus mind touches 
nature and comes into relation with the great uni- 
verse of possible knowledge. This may be desig- 
nated involuntary attention because objects are not 
selected and chosen by the will, but, unbidden, 
obtrude themselves on our apprehension. It is a 
mental act that is necessarily present in every stage 
and form of cognition. 

The mind does much more than apprehend, it 
discriminates and classifies. This cannot be done 
without attention, perceiving qualities, and through 
resemblances and differences constructing complex 
units out of the multiplicity of particulars. In 
this there is a selective act, the field is narrowed, 
the powers of cognition are restricted by being em- 
ployed on the elements by which classification is 
effected. And in proportion to the concentration 
of mental energies, there is clearness of under- 
standing and accumulation of power. This is 
more than contraction, a withdrawal of attention 
from the general field of knowledge ; such with- 
drawal takes place in inattention ; it is rather a 
withdrawal from the many to concentrate on the 
few. It is the bringing of the energies of the mind 
to bear on a restricted field to the exclusion of the 
irrelevant. Nothing is more feeble than abstrac- 

37 



MAN-BUILDING 

tion without concentration — a letting go of all ob- 
jects of thought. That which is needed is intense 
intellectual gaze secured by the focusing of thought. 
This can be done only by the action of the will in 
what we call voluntary attention. 

We speak of attention as the keeping of the 
mind from wandering, holding it steadily to the 
subject under consideration. But we do not mean 
by this a fixed, immobile gaze ; that might exist 
with but little mental activity. We should not sit 
down by a theme, but work on it, keeping, how- 
ever, all that is foreign out of sight. Every sub- 
ject is complex, a compound with many relations. 
To give rational attention is to study it in its ful- 
ness ; analyzing it ; turning it over on every side ; 
making it, for the time being, the sole object of 
interest ; excluding everything that would inter- 
rupt or weaken these efforts. Attention, therefore, 
is mental application to a unit of thought nar- 
rower or broader according to the subject in hand. 
For this there is needed the ability to continue 
such work uninterruptedly till fully accomplished. 
There must be action, unity of action, force of 
action. 

This application of energy underlies all vigorous 
and successful movements of the life. We have 
seen that knowledge depends upon it — is gained 
by means of it, and is made clear and comprehen- 
sive. Interest is also thus awakened. The more 
complete the view and the more vital the relations 

38 



TEAIKING OF ATTENTION 

unfolded, the more numerous are the points at 
which it touches our emotional life. We prize in 
proportion to perceived values, and we feel only as 
we perceive. The world of feeling is no greater or 
wider than the field of knowledge. Through all of 
this the will is reached, an inspiration to do takes 
hold upon us, and the range of our power of action 
is increased. The entire being is stirred and made 
more effective. Attention illuminates the mind ; the 
clearer vision stirs the emotions ; and the ardor of 
soul arouses the will, and thus the whole life is 
wrought up to mightier deeds. 



CHAPTER X 
THE TRAINING OF ATTENTION 

Like every other mental force the attention can 
be trained by giving it vigorous and continuous 
action. Living in the midst of such a multiplicity 
of objects which constantly obtrude themselves on 
our notice, we are liable to dissipate all specific 
energy. When some particular subject calls for 
consideration there may be numberless occasions 
for diversion, so that the continuity of thinking is 
not infrequently interrupted, defeating, it may be, 
the purpose we have in view. 

Training should begin in the early years of child- 
hood. The novelty of the world into which the 

39 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

child has come contributes to a vivid daily experi- 
ence, but it is largely like a rapidly shifting 
panorama. The attention is quickly caught, but 
changes to some new scene. Nothing is more dif- 
ficult than for the child to resist the inclination to 
let go of the present for that which follows it ; and 
this is likely to keep him racing from morning to 
night along the pathway of the hours. There is 
needed a discipline of restraint, to do that which 
should be done — to stop to do it — notwithstanding 
the bright picture just in the future. The boy that 
excuses himself on the ground that he forgot the 
errand — not wilfulness but forgetfulness — displays 
the need of training. 

The school-days of youth are usually leSs produc- 
tive of good than they should be, because of un- 
wise methods. For either the book or the teacher 
to do the whole work is robbing the child of power. 
It is worth immensely more for the boy to learn 
how to study one thing thoroughly, than to read a 
dozen things in a book. If to have the meaning 
of the text is all that is necessary, the translation 
by a friend or by a " pony " will answer the whole 
purpose. He who searches in order to find gets a 
hundred-fold more into the fibres of his mental life 
than the boy who accepts what is prepared for him 
either by his teacher or author, because he has 
evolved it by looking at it more steadily, and into 
it more deeply. He gains the habit and power of 
attention. 

40 



TKAINING OF ATTENTION 

There is in our colleges a fault, tliat is almost 
universal, of sacrificing depth for superficial area — 
we do not say the sacrificing depth for breadth, for 
real breadth in scholarship is depth. Ground is 
too often travelled over in a hurried manner ; the 
task is not learned, but glanced over, the surface 
is skimmed. There are two classes of subjects 
studied in our schools ; one of these is pursued for 
the knowledge to be gained, the other for the men- 
tal discipline to be acquired. The benefit of the 
latter occurs not in the having but in the getting. 
The student is compelled to study so carefully, to 
dig down so deeply, to bend his energies to the 
work so continuously that there is a growth of 
power, he is gaining the ability to be a master in 
the great world of thought. But even in those 
branches which are specially informational, if pur- 
sued in a scholarly way there is ordinarily not less 
good to be derived in the training of the intellect 
than from the knowledge acquired. 

The student's ideal is largely a false one. Edu- 
cation, as he conceives it, is knowledge. To him, 
in this is found a personal benefit, and hence in 
studying he thinks only of the knowledge to be 
gained. When he is examined it is to determine 
how much he knows. Theoretically discipline is 
taken into account, but practically it is lost sight 
of. It is not an end sought in every lesson. The 
student does not say to himself, " In what way 
can I get most discipline out of this lesson? I 

41 



MAK-BUILDi:^rG 

will bend my mind to this work so as to sharpen 
my mental vision, intensify my mental gaze, and 
add to the power of close application." But he 
asks, " Do I understand this lesson ? Can I recite 
this lesson?" The Freshman who does not learn 
with much greater facility the latter half of the 
year than the former half, is either very obtuse or 
has been at work in an unphilosophical way. The 
Senior should surpass the Freshman or Sopho- 
more, not only in scholarship, but greatly in the 
power of gaining scholarship. 

Much more than holding an examination on the 
text, there should be a testing of the power to 
gain knowledge and to comprehend the problems 
studied. The college curriculum does not provide 
for this, and the teacher in charge of a depart- 
ment gives ordinarily but little attention to it. 
This whole subject should have direct and efficient 
supervision. Exercises can be introduced in every 
part of the course for pure disciplinary effect. 
Nothing was more valuable in the public school 
years ago than the work in mental arithmetic. The 
problems, being made gradually more complex, 
held in the mind ; and in the absence of all me- 
chanical helps, solved by the child, created the 
need of increasing grasp of attention ; and thus by 
practice, facility was gained for deeper and harder 
work, so that in a single term of a few months, a 
marked improvement would be observed in the 
handling of difficult problems. In recent years 

42 



TEAINING OF ATTENTION 

the trend has been toward formulation of processes 
and away from intuitive operations. Our higher 
schools of learning should give us better thinkers 
by making a specialty of mental training, not 
stopping with the fact of the lesson being learned 
so as to be creditably well recited. Let the mind 
of the pupil be studied as well as the quality of the 
recitation determined. What has been learned 
should become known by the teacher ; but how the 
student proceeds in gaining knowledge should 
also be investigated, and guidance afforded. 

To secure a concentration of attention, awaken, 
if possible, an interest in the subject. This the 
wise teacher always seeks to accomplish. To call 
upon the pupil to give attention will usually create 
a temporary effect, but ordinarily it will only be 
temporary. The roots of attention are not reached. 
But the mind takes hold of and clings to that in 
which it feels a decided interest. This statement 
is of value both to the teacher and pupil. It con- 
tains a principle of universal application. 

The will has in this a specific office to perform. 
It can and should rule the intellect. It is able to 
call in wandering thoughts and centre them on 
any special subject. It is ordained to hold the 
helm, and it should be trained to hold it firmly. 
Nothing more completely dissipates power than 
unchecked drifting of thought. While a feeling of 
interest draws the attention, the will should force 
it, when the occasion for its exercise arises. And 

43 



MAN-BUILDING 

the more frequently and imperiously the will as- 
serts its authority, and the more constant the 
effort to secure regularity of attention the more 
intense and effective will be the concentration of 
thought. 

And greatness, masterful sweep of power, is in 
proportion to the massing of mental energies, and 
the steady, determined assault on fortifications we 
seek to capture. 



CHAPTEK XI 

FIRST FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

In Chapter Y. it was stated that there are four 
distinct faculties of knowing, and therefore four 
forms or classes of knowledge. Writers designate 
the kind of knowledge we shall consider in this 
chapter as Presentative. It is not inferential 
knowledge ; it is not representative ; it is not im- 
plied, but it is perceptive. In the order of time 
the Presentative is the first that is gained by the 
mind. It is the simplest in its nature and requires 
the least mental effort. The objects to which this 
knowledge relates obtrude themselves on our at- 
tention, and wiien the mind is in a normal, active 
state they come into the field of view. This is 
knowledge that is obtained when the object is 
present and directly discerned. 

44 



riEST FOKMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

Such knowledge is gained tlirough the senses. 
It has been stated that there are five special 
senses — of touch, taste, smell, hearing, and sight, 
called special because each has a special organism, 
and a special office or mode of action peculiar to 
itself. In addition to these there is a muscular 
sense, reporting the condition of the muscles in 
their action, weariness, etc., their more or less ful- 
ness or depletion of energy ; and an organic sense 
by which we become aware of the state of our 
organic life. 

In order that through any of these channels 
knowledge may be gained of the material world 
sensations are produced. A sensation is a feeling 
awakened through stimulation of some sensory 
nerve, putting the mind cognitively in connection 
with the object then present. That sensations 
may arise there must be a material object, some 
nerve or nerves brought by it into a state of ex- 
citation, this excitation then transmitted to the 
brain, and the mind thereby consciously aroused. 
Thus on the physical side there must be nerves 
and brain acted upon by some material object. 
But with nothing more than this, sensations are 
not possible ; that nerve excitation may pass into 
sensation there must be mind in a conscious state 
affected by the nervous stimulation. Without a 
mental recognition of nerve-stimulation there is 
no sensation. Sensation is a psychical action. It 
belongs to the mind, not to the nerves, though 

45 



MAN-BUILDING 

the nervous system is necessary for the mental im- 
pression ; and in the nerves the excitation of the 
life must take its rise. 

In sensation, however, there is more or less dis- 
tinct recognition of the nerve - endings through 
which the impression is received. As, for instance, 
in rubbing the finger-tips over a rough surface the 
mind becomes aware of the character of such sur- 
face by virtue of the impression made on the 
nerves of the fingers, and the excitation of these 
nerve - endings is revealed in the mental state 
thereby produced. In other words, the mind 
becomes aware of these two things, the disturb- 
ance of the local nerves and the character of the 
object affecting this disturbance. This really is 
perception, the reading or interpretation of the 
sensation. The sensation was mental, directing 
the mind to both of these objects to be perceived 
— the nerve and the object which acted upon the 
nerve. 

In some sensations the physiological factor or 
medium is very prominent, as in touch, taste, and 
smell. In other sensations, as in sight, the phy- 
siological drops wholly out of view. There is no 
feeling in the eye, or referred to the eye, by an 
image forming on a healthy retina. In the proc- 
ess of seeing we are wholly unconscious of the 
existence of a retina. The retina was not discov- 
ered by our using the eye, but by dissection of the 
eye of a dead animal. In sight the retina responds 

46 



FIEST FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

to the light without our being aware of any move- 
ment taking place. There is a sensation, or condi- 
tion for perception, effected without any observed 
or felt physiological change. It should be borne 
in mind that the sense in which we use the word 
sensation is a mental feeling, or an awakened 
mental state produced by some stimulation of the 
nervous system by a physical object. The sen- 
sation is mental, the origin or exciting cause is 
physical. 

Sensations differ widely in their nature, depend- 
ing on the character of the organs through which 
they arise. We are able to discern as many classes 
of qualities existing in nature as there are kinds 
of sense-organs. We do not know whether the 
scope of our possible knowledge of the material 
world is limited by our sense-organs or that these 
organs report fully to us the constitution of nature. 
It may be that there are material qualities all 
about us unknown because we have no sense or- 
gans fitted to receive impressions from them. We 
do know that the sense-organs do not report all 
the activities of nature. The ear gathers no ele- 
ments of sound when the number of vibrations of 
the air is below 16 or above 36,000 per second. 
The ether may at different times be in vibration all 
the way from a very slow to a very rapid rate, but 
as has before been said, w^e get no sensation of 
light below 462,000,000,000 or above 733,000,000,- 
000 of vibrations per second. Outside of this range 

47 



MAN-BUILDING 

it is the deepest midnight. The force of gravitation 
is transmitted from one world to another, probably, 
through interstellar ether, but we have no nerves 
that detect its constant flow. 

The senses we possess are the windows through 
which the mind looks out on the material world. 
Nature presents herself to us as objects of cogni- 
tion through this medium. How nerve-stimula- 
tion, when it reaches the cells of the brain, can be 
transferred to the mind no one is able to explain. 
It is a mystery, but no more a mystery than in- 
numerable other facts clearly established. We 
know positively that perception of outward objects 
begins with the agitation of nerve-endings in touch, 
hearing, sight, etc., and ends with the discerning 
of the object that supplied the stimulus. The 
starting-point of the process we find, the track is 
determined and the outcome is known. Of all 
this we have as much certainty as though the mys- 
tery of the energy of transference was cleared away. 
Things and the knowledge of things belong to two 
different spheres. One is physical, the other mental. 
The latter is the reading or interpretation of the 
other. A sensation — painful or pleasurable — is 
not a thing, but a means or condition of knowing 
it, and perception is the finding and localizing of 
the object causing the sensation. 

The first form of knowledge, then, is that which 
is gained through the senses. It is direct, imme- 
diate, simple so far as the action of the mind is 

48 



FIRST FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

concerned, and of particular objects. We desig- 
nate it presentative knowledge because the object 
perceived is present to sense. 



CHAPTER XII 
FIRST FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE— (Co w^mwec?) 

In using the word perception at this stage of 
our discussion we must restrict its meaning to 
knowledge that is characteristically presentative, 
such knowledge as is the natural and direct result 
of sensations. This is the entire significance of 
the act of perception with the little child ; in 
maturer life the content of perception comes to be 
much broader and more complex. In these later 
years, in presentation there is mingled a large ele- 
ment of representation and reasoning, at least to 
the extent of classification. But these factors for 
the present will be ignored. 

It is seldom that perception — the immediate 
knowledge of things through the senses — is based 
on a single class of sensations. In perceiving an 
orange, for illustration, distinguishing it from 
other objects, with which it might be confounded, 
the eye is used, through which we have a sensa- 
tion of color and shape ; there is also a sensation 
of form by handling the fruit. There is a sensa- 

49 



MAK-BUILBING 

tion of the character of the surface by means of 
touch and pressure of the hand. The sense of 
smell is employed, and to complete our investiga- 
tion we resort to taste. But from all of these sen- 
sations we perceive the object to be an orange. Is 
the flower at which you look an actual or paper 
rose ? The eye alone may not be able to settle the 
question; you appeal also to the sensation of 
touch and smell. Is the figure that rises before 
you a person, or are you the victim of hallucina- 
tion ? To sight it seems to be a person, but you 
stretch forth your hand to touch it and find it 
wholly intangible. 

The sensibilities and will both make contribu- 
tions to the act of perception, to the extent of 
interest, at least on the part of the sensibilities, 
while the will directs and holds the attention, so 
that they enliven and give color to the perception. 
It is evident that crowding in on us from every 
side there are manifestations of the outer world 
appearing in our intellectual life, through the sen- 
sations awakened and wdiich mingle in varying 
proportions. 

Sensations depend upon the stimulus applied, 
but they are not in the precise ratio of the stimu- 
lus. Weber's law, which seems to be reliable, 
teaches that to secure an arithmetical variation of 
the sensations, the stimulus must vary geometri- 
cally. To obtain sensations represented by one, 
two, three, four, the stimulus must be one, four, 

50 



FIEST FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

nine, sixteen. That is, in order tliat tlie sen- 
sation may be doubled in its intensity or degree, 
the stimulus must be quadrupled. To treble the 
sensation the stimulus must be increased ninefold. 
To double the sensation of sight the amount of 
light the object radiates or reflects must be aug- 
mented fourfold. The shriek of an engine rasps 
the auditory nerve only in the ratio of the square 
root of the sound emitted. 

Sensations are relative also, they do not stand 
for fixed quantities. When the hand is thrust into 
water at 110 degrees, there is a sensation of heat, 
but if transferred from water at 150 degree to water 
at 110 degrees, there is a sensation of cold. One 
reason that special sounds can usually be heard 
more distinctly in the dead of night than in the day- 
time, is that in the general quiet of the night there 
are no mixed or counter waves to be overcome. 

All sensations are phenomena, they are not the 
transference of qualities to the nerves through 
which sensations are perceived. Sweetness is not 
in the sugar, but it is a sensation developed locally 
by the action of sugar on the gustatory nerves of 
the mouth. These nerves cannot produce this 
sensation of sweetness alone, nor can the sensation 
be in the sugar, but as the result of the contact of 
the sugar with the nerves, the sensation comes 
into existence. Sweetness is not put into the 
mouth, but is developed in the mouth. There is 
no color in the absence of light. In a rayless 

51 



MAN-BtJILDIJ^a 

niglit the barn that was painted red is not red, 
The paint is capable of decomposing the light 
that falls on it, absorbing all except the red rays. 
The music is not in the violin, only waves or vi- 
brations of air can be created, which vibrations 
produce certain sensations of musical sounds — 
in pitch and quality — by action on the auditory 
nerve. 

Are our senses always reliable, or do they some- 
times deceive us ? Take phenomena like the fol- 
lowing. A large man looks like a small boy, until 
you come to realize that instead of being twenty 
rods away he is half a mile from you. An object 
of but a few inches in front of the eye, but sup- 
posed to be several feet away, seems to be many 
times larger than it really is. Does the sense of 
sight in these cases make a false report? The 
apparent magnitude of an object depends upon 
the visual angle — the angle formed by lines drawn 
from the extreme points of the object to the centre 
of the eye. The greater the distance of the 
object the smaller the angle. The effect on the 
angle of vision by increasing the distance without 
change of size of the object, is the same as would 
be produced by reducing the size without change 
of distance. In this there is no deceit. Sense is 
accurate and does all it is planned to do. When 
the actual distance is understood and taken into 
account, with the additional sense determination 
of diminution of light because of distance, the 

52 



FIRST FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

mind forms a correct judgment as to real magni- 
tude. Perception is not sensation simply, but 
sensation on which judgment has been exercised. 
It is an act broadly intellectual. 

Take another illustration. A straight stick par- 
tially and obliquely immersed in water, appears to 
be bent at the surface of the water. We may 
know positively that the stick is straight, but by 
no means can we make it look straight. Does not 
sense in such a case as this deceive us ? It ought 
not to do so, if we understand certain laws of 
nature. When light passes obliquely from one 
medium into another of different density, it is 
always refracted from a straight line. Apparent 
position must depend on the direction from which 
the light enters the eye. That direction being 
changed at the surface of the water, the stick must 
necessarily appear bent. The eye is not at fault, 
the light has changed its course. On the same 
principle the disk of the sun is seen in the morn- 
ing, a little time before it rises or is actually above 
the horizon, and a brief period at night, after it 
sinks below the horizon. The rays of the sun in 
coming into the atmosphere are bent downward. 
In the mirage a vessel appears inverted in the sky 
because of unequal degrees of refraction of light. 
Now as to position or direction of objects, the eye 
cannot trace the light beyond the organ through 
which sensations originate. It is not its function 
to go out into space and track the curving of the 

53 



MAK-BUILBIKG 

light in changing the apparent position of the sun 
or moon or stars ; to find the crossing of the rays 
through unequal refraction, so as to form the 
mirage ; to extend its work to the surface of the 
water, to note the deviation from a straight line of 
the rays which find their way up into the air. 

The senses do their own work accurately and 
well. They do not go out of their own spheres. 
In knowledge, however, there are elements which 
sense does not supply. 



CHAPTEK XIII 
INTELLECTUAL TRAINING OF THE CHILD 

The subject to be presented in this chapter is of 
the greatest practical importance. The child starts 
in life with an equipment of sense-organs. The 
first knowledge gained is perceptional. Other 
forms gradually make their way into the intellect- 
ual life, but in childhood sense-knowledge pre- 
dominates, and through all our years it must be 
fundamental. 

The natural order in mental training — there 
must be a natural order — should be observed. 
Before school-days arrive the child is in his native 
element. He is attracted by the various objects 
of the physical world ; through sight and hearing, 

54 



TRAII^ING OF THE CHILD 

taste, smell, and touch lie comes to know and dis- 
criminate material things. Sensations crowd in 
upon his experience, and the range of his intelli- 
gence is constantly enlarging. There is no period 
in which more rapid progress is made. This ought 
not to stop when the child enters school ; but until 
recent years the early school period was nearly a 
blank. It was a violent excision from the natural 
stock on which life had been grafted. 

The kindergarten methods which are now being 
employed are eminently philosophical. In this 
the occupation of the child is in the world of the 
concrete — of actual material things. The play 
element is not aimless, but is turned toward ma- 
terial forms, in connection with which there is a 
disciplining of the powers of discrimination. The 
interest developed quickens the mental pulse, and 
in the aroused spirit of observation the immediate 
world in which the child is living comes to have a 
deeper significance. At first there is little the 
child can understand but things ; it is too early 
for wide processes of reasoning, for handling ab- 
stract principles. Nothing is better for the child, 
from three to six or seven years of age, than the 
training and guidance in the kindergarten. It is 
living close to the world of sense. 

"When the child passes from the kindergarten to 
the general school-room, what then? Shall he 
turn his back on nature ? Nothing could be more 
unwise. He has already gained something of an 

55 



MAK-BUILDING 

equipment in and for the world of sense, and there 
is a wide field not as yet explored on which this 
equipment can be employed. We say, study 
things. There is more for the child in the rocks, 
the flowers, the trees, the lakes and rivers, the hills 
and the vales, the animal and vegetable kingdoms, 
in the growing crop, the mature seed, the works of 
art as seen by the eye and handled by the hands, 
than in the most perfect book man has ever writ- 
ten. In school-days children should be led up to 
nature to listen to her voice and catch her smile — 
not away from her as though the purpose of edu- 
cation was to sever the life from its natural con- 
nections, to divorce what God has sought to join 
in an eternal union. 

There are two reasons for the theory we are urg- 
ing. One is that the child is better prepared to 
study the world of things than any other of the 
classes of subjects that can be brought to his at- 
tention. It, indeed, is all he can do well. The 
other is that sensuous knowledge must underlie 
that which is abstract as it shall come into the 
life in subsequent years. Every child should be 
trained to be a careful observer. Observation is 
more than the keeping of the eyes open, a general 
recognition of one's physical environment. It is 
a mental state, a spirit of inquiry, analytic in mak- 
ing discriminations. It is not merely looking at 
things, but into things. The child should be 
trained to be a close inspector, gaining the habit 

56 



TRAINING OF THE CHILD 

of rational scrutiny ; his eyes should go down into 
the very depths of his soul. The telescope does 
not find the star, it is the man behind the tele- 
scope. 

Educationally much of the work of childhood 
consists in learning the names of things and the 
meaning of the words which express acts or phe- 
nomena. The drill of the school-room, with nat- 
ure carefully shut out from view, gives a very im- 
perfect impression of the content of the words 
which are intended to express natural objects. 
The way to study language is to gain a familiarity 
with that of which it is an expression. If lan- 
guage-study should begin in childhood, as it cer- 
tainly should, the words should not be a dim 
shadow of the real. This is necessary, not only 
to meet the demands of scholarship, but of gene- 
ral intelligence as well. 

To the parent we would say, help the child to 
get into rational touch with nature in all the sports 
and amusements of the first years of its conscious 
being. We charge the teacher to take this great 
universe into his service in starting the education 
of the boy and girl. Get out of the powers of per- 
ception the work they are fitted to do. See to it 
that a foundation is laid for a wide sphere of in- 
vestigation and thought, in attentive and discrimi- 
nating study of the objects for which the senses 
are provided. To the student seeking scholarship 
we bring this exhortation : Develop the power 

57 



MAN-BUILDING 

and gain the habit of a close and interested ob- 
server. Train the mind constantly, and with deep- 
est interest, to search for truth through the senses 
with which you are fortunately endowed. 



CHAPTEE XIV 

MENTAL GROWTH 

Mental growth comprises enlargement of life as 
to powers, and knowledge gained by employment 
of powers. Knowledge acquired contributes to 
the energy of our cognitive faculties, and the 
greater the energy of these faculties the more rap- 
idly and thoroughly will knowledge be gained. 
In mature years the body consumes food to repair 
waste ; in childhood and youth the purpose is to 
promote growth as well as to repair the daily waste. 
Unlike the physical, the sole office of mental food 
is enlargement of mental life. The food which 
the plant takes from the air and soil is wrought 
into its structure and hence it grows ; the extent 
of growth being in proportion to the amount of 
material thus utilizedo If the same principle holds 
in the mental world, the acquisition of knowledge 
through all the years of the past should appear — 
the whole of it — in the intelligence and capability 
pf to-day, 

58 



MENTAL GKOWTH 

Mental effort is of value even should we fail to 
solve the problem on which we are employed. It 
is of more value, however, if in the effort the truth 
or solution we seek be reached. The speculations 
of the philosophers of the Middle Ages are of little 
worth as systems of thought, but the intellectual 
struggles for which they stood made some mighty 
men. Larger results followed when rational lines 
of study were pursued which led directly to the 
temple of truth. Civilization means most when 
knowledge is most fully developed in connection 
with the rational use of mental powers. Truth is 
needed as the furnishing of the intellectual life. 
We work with it and on it to gain more truth. 
Progress in scholarship depends on the scholar- 
ship already gained. Each truth captured lifts up 
to a higher level, enlarging the field of view. The 
gaining of knowledge because of the worth of 
knowledge, and the stimulation and more success- 
ful action of the powers, is progress. 

If the knowledge gained to-day should fade away 
to-morrow, mental life would be at a standstill. 
The only condition of substantial improvement is 
the persistence of knowledge. Because of this we 
have scholarship, professional skill, intelligence 
from the lowest to the highest grade. Thus man- 
hood means more than childhood, and life has a 
glorious mission. 

That the mind holds on to its possessions every- 
body knows ; how, is an inscrutable mystery. To 

59 



MAN-BUILDING 

speak of knowledge as being stored away in the 
mind — in the mind but distinct from the mind — as 
wheat is stored in a bin, or letters deposited in a 
pigeon-hole, is to use a misleading figure of speech. 
Knowledge is not stored, it is incorporated. It 
enters into the flow of life, modifying mental ac- 
tion. 

It is not unreasonable to hold, as the psycholo- 
gists of to-day universally maintain, that the per- 
sistence of knowledge and of all mental impres- 
sions is due to a modification of brain-cells effected 
by the action of the mind in the gaining of knowl- 
edge and the creation of such impressions. As 
the mind depends on the brain for all its activity, 
this cannot be eliminated from the problem of 
thought. With a healthy brain there is normal 
mental action ; with a diseased brain there is 
mental disorder. Insanity is a brain trouble, it 
can be cured only by a proper treatment of the 
nervous system. Softening of the brain is a break- 
ing down of brain-cells, producing idiocy. All 
nervous disorders affect the mind. The dyspeptic 
is irritable despite efforts to restrain his temper. 
In nervous prostration the whole mental life is 
swayed by irritable nerves. Drafts on the brain 
are drafts on the mind as well. The orator under 
nervous excitement finds the mind stimulated and 
sharpened ; when his effort is passed and the ner- 
vous system feels exhaustion, the mind for a time 
is almost incapable of effort. The mind of the 

60 



MENTAL GEOWTH 

minister on Monday is often sluggish as a reaction 
from the nervous strain of the Sabbath. A boy 
with an irascible spirit, by repressing his tendenc}^ 
to nervous irritation, can gain a placid temper ; but 
by giving unrestrained freedom to nervous excite- 
ment the habit of violent outbursts of passion be- 
comes his master as the years go by. 

Perception, which is psychical, may be modified 
by the training of the nerves. The Indian gains 
the ability, by frequently putting his ear to the 
ground, to hear the approaching footsteps of the 
enemy while still at a great distance. The blind 
man comes to have a sharper hearing and more 
sensitive touch because in the absence of sight he 
depends on these senses. Cases have existed in 
which the deaf have shown great appreciation of 
music through the sense of touch effected by plac- 
ing the hands on the wooden furnishings of the 
room. The tactile nerves had taken the place of 
the auditory nerves. 

Everything goes to show that the nervous sys- 
tem, with the brain as its sensory centre, has a 
most important part to perform in the gaining and 
utilization of mental experience. We see, there- 
fore, that mental growth consists of an increase of 
knowledge, an enlargement and strengthening of 
mental faculties, and a modified and developing 
condition of the brain and nervous system for the 
more efficient action of the energies of the mind. 



61 



MAN-BUILDING 

CHAPTEK XV 

SECOND FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
(memory) 

Memoey, to whicli we referred in the preceding 
chapter, is a faculty by which the past is brought 
back into consciousness. It consists of three stages 
or essential elements, Betention, Reproduction, and 
Becognition, We use the word retention to express 
the fact that that which is remembered has in 
some way remained in our mental life. Then there 
is reproduction, that which had been produced in 
perception but had passed out of consciousness, is 
reproduced, is brought back into consciousness. 
And that the act of memory be complete, that 
which is recalled or reproduced must be identified 
or recognized as standing for the original produc- 
tion as to fact, time, and place. 

This form of mental action is properly desig- 
nated representative in distinction from the pre- 
sentative which we considered under the head of 
" first forms of knowledge." In the exercise of the 
representative faculty the subject to which the 
knowledge relates is not present either in time or 
place, it is not directly received through any of 
the senses. In representation, the knowledge is 

62 



SECOND FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

not then created — not then primarily produced, but 
it is reproduced. In the experiences through 
which we daily pass our gaze is constantly shift- 
ing. That which is the object of attention one 
moment gives way to something else in the mo- 
ment that follows. We walk in new fields and 
encounter new scenes, becoming oblivious to the 
days and years through which we have come. 

Were all the past constantly retained in con- 
sciousness there would be mental confusion which 
would arrest progress. But if all the past of which 
we have become unconscious had been blotted out 
— escaped beyond recall — we would never rise 
above the feebleness of early childhood. And as 
we retain our hold on our past mental acquisitions, 
however broad the range of truth we have trav- 
ersed, these being somehow stored in or attached 
to the mind so as to be called into use at will and 
employed as our needs require, we may and should 
become rich in mental treasures. 

How does memory unfold ? It will not be prof- 
itable in this connection to deal with the physio- 
logical or scientific speculations in which writers 
have indulged. Our statements will be valid 
whatever fundamental theories are adopted. Upon 
this, however, we must insist that the furnishings 
of the mind called education, whether existing as 
cognitions, feelings, or volitions, are not posses- 
sions simply held by the mind and which could 
be excluded from the mind without affecting its 

63 



MAN-BUILDING 

integrity or capability. They are not a deposit in 
mind cavities but a constituent of mind texture. 

It is evident tliere can be no action of memory 
when tliere lias been no action of mind in first 
gaining knowledge. Yery largely is it true tbat 
wliat is charged against the memory should rather 
be charged against the mind in its incomplete 
work in acquiring perceptional knowledge. We 
do not remember because we have not learned. 
What has not been in consciousness could not be 
brought into consciousness hj an act of memory. 
We cannot recall unless v/e have had something to 
be recalled. The student cannot recite his lesson 
when he has not learned it. The memory does not 
take in the events of early childhood because such 
events were not fully imderstood ; they did not 
completely become objects of knowledge. A thing 
is known not simply by impressing some sense, but 
by being discriminately perceived and put into the 
class of realities where it belongs. This does not 
occur to any large extent until the child is five or 
six years old. There is in the mind of the infant 
no class knowledge to which sensations can be re- 
ferred. When the child has progressed so far as 
to have a body of discriminated perceptions — 
at least a groundwork of classification — objects or 
events apprehended have a meaning because of re- 
semblance with that which had previously been 
distinguished. Gradually what was dim becomes 
clear, a stage is reached in which knowledge is 

64 



SECOND FOBMS OF KKOWLEDGE 

rounded out, and which therefore can be retained 
in memory. That which was clear in knowledge is 
clear in memory. 

It is important to know that all sensations can- 
not be recalled with equal ease and clearness. It 
is much more difficult to reproduce sensations 
awakened by the sense of smell or of taste than of 
sight. Usually that which is seen by the eye is 
more fully represented than objects of any of the 
other senses. There are persons, however, who 
recall auditory images with special facility, the 
sound readily coming back into consciousness in 
its quality or timbre. The memory is auditory 
rather than visual. 

Writers on psychology designate memory as 
perfect and imperfect, spontaneous, tenacious, ver- 
bal, philosophic, etc. These various types or con- 
ditions of memory have their groundwork farther 
back in the intellectual life. He who learns things 
imperfectly will remember imperfectly, while he 
who has a clear mental vision and has gained the 
habit of mastering objects of attention will possess 
what may be called a perfect memory. Individu- 
als having tenacious memory are such as dwell on 
the subjects of knowledge or thought until they 
are incorporated into the mental life. A sponta- 
neous memory, a quick -acting memory, has its basis 
in a mental constitution that is not sluggish in the 
work it does, but rapidly passes from one point to 
another in its intellectual activity. Those who have 

65 



MAISr-BUILDING 

great facility in committing words will most easily 
recall words, and should their studies not extend 
beyond the names or words learned it is certain 
that the memory will be quite distinctively verbal. 
With those endowed with philosophical memory 
the intelligence is philosophical. They see things 
as related in cause and effect or are otherwise linked 
together, so that when memory goes back to the 
fields traversed it reads into consciousness that 
which appeared in consciousness when the knowl- 
edge was gained. 

Persons belonging to unlike professions will give 
different descriptions of places or scenes which 
they had visited, because, though they were equal- 
ly wide awake, their attention became engaged 
according to the profession to which the life was 
devoted. The lawyer recalls one class of facts, 
the physician another, the scientist another, the 
statesman another. What we remember, how 
much we remember, is determined by the mental 
life we have been living. 

The secret of a good memory is close discrimi- 
nating attention in the gaining of knowledge. The 
memory can be trained by training the mind to 
acquire. The first forms of knowledge — the per- 
ceptional, the presentative — appear in the repre- 
sentative, and that only is representative, as we 
have before stated, which had existed in the pre- 
sentative. Artificial methods of developing the 
memory are vicious, or if not vicious, they are 

66 



SECOND FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

worthless. A resort to that which is artificial is, 
at least, a waste of time and energy. The fullest 
provision for a reliable memory is made in the 
regular action of our mental life in the gaining of 
knowledge. The following principles are worthy 
of mention. 

1st. There must be a vivid and clear perception 
of the objects of knowledge whatever sense is em- 
ployed. Dim perceptions fade away. 

2d. The attention should be sharp, compre- 
hensive, and uninterrupted. 

3d. The knowledge gained should be, not, as is 
too often the case in reading, a mere apprehension 
of the words but all that which the words hold. 

4:th. A frequent mental repetition of that which 
was in the field of thought, that the impression 
may be deepened. Learning to think is learning 
to remember. The thorough and rational student, 
he who goes down into the heart of the things to 
which he turns his attention, will not fail to have 
a good memory. 



67 



MAN-BUILDING 

CHAPTEE XVI 

SECOND FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE — (Cowiiwwec^) 

(ASSOCIATION IN THE ACTION OF MEMORY) 

It is a universal experience that one thought 
suggests another, that one object calls another 
object to mind. Under some principle all our 
knowledge is related, nothing stands forth alone. 
Meeting an individual you inquire about his 
parents, or the school which once you both at- 
tended together, or someone you had known to be 
his intimate friend, or some project which had 
been started in the community in which he lived — 
indeed scores of inquiries, perhaps, arise in your 
mind relating to things which would not have been 
thought of had not this person made his appear- 
ance. Objects which enter into experience are 
widely linked together. This is shown in all the 
movements of our lives. We enter into conversa- 
tion and field after field is traversed which were 
not thought of when the interview began. A per- 
son is suddenly called out to address an assembly 
and commences his speech with no definite line of 
thought to present, but each sentence suggests 
something further to say, and he spends a half 
hour in giving utterance to thoughts which succes- 

68 



ASSOCIATION 

sively rise up within him. Some law producing 
these results is ever operating in the field of con- 
sciousness. 

How is the specific flow of varying conscious- 
ness kept up ? Why do not the mind's movements 
stop when the subject which has engaged the at- 
tention is dismissed? The principles of associa- 
tion, which are in continued operation, it is not 
difficult to discover. 

When of two ideas which had existed in the 
mind — had been thought together, were objects 
of attention at the same time — one comes back 
into consciousness the other comes with it. This 
is commonly called association of ideas. The ideas 
were in company and they remained in company. 
The philosophy of this it is not very easy to state. 
Do the ideas attract each other like a magnet and 
the iron ? It is not reasonable to suppose that this 
is the true explanation, or a sufficient explanation, 
as ideas have an existence only while the mind is 
in action upon the subject for which they stand. 
The ground of inseparableness is not in the ideas 
alone but in the mind in which the ideas are in- 
hering. Together they were associated in a 
mental act at first, which put them both on the 
same plane for reproduction. But whatever theory 
we adopt, the fact is a key that unlocks the move- 
ments of life in the reproductive energies of the 
mind. Under this force the past rushes up before 
us, and memory is able to do her work. 

69 



MAN-BUILDING 

But association has a wider range than is found 
in the above statement. Presentations or impres- 
sions that occur in immediate succession, tend to 
suggest one another. This is certainly true if in the 
succession one of these grew out of the other, hav- 
ing the same root. This widens the former princi- 
ple to a considerable extent and helps to unite the 
most of our ideas or experiences more or less 
closely together. In this we have what is called 
the law of contiguity. It may be contiguity in 
place. In this, objects seen together or nearly to- 
gether tend to recall one another because, per- 
haps, they are associated with the same place, or 
because attention was given to them at the same 
time. Contiguity in time — leaving place out of the 
account — operates under the same law. Meeting 
two persons while on a journey subsequently the 
remembrance of one tends to call up the other, be- 
cause of the identity of time in which they were 
seen. 

There is a principle of resemblance that some- 
times comes into action. A very tall man reminds 
you of some other tall man whom you have known. 
A person with an extremely large nose suggests to 
you some individual who also possesses similar 
extraordinary features. Such as these are illus- 
trations in the world of sense. You hear the 
name of Napoleon and you think of Caesar, Hanni- 
bal and Alexander. They were alike in being great 
generals. Socrates is mentioned and immediately 

70 



ASSOCIATION 

Plato and Aristotle come into your mind. A great 
philosopher suggests another distinguished phi- 
losopher. Michael Angelo was a famous painter, 
and when he is spoken of, you cannot help think- 
ing of Raphael, Eubens, and many others who have 
enriched the world with their genius in art. These 
are illustrations under the principle of similarity 
in the sphere of talents and achievements. 

There is a law of contrast through which sug- 
gestions are awakened. The dwarf suggests the 
giant ; one color the opposite ; the rich the poor ; 
the strong the feeble. Boys in college call a col- 
lege mate of large proportions the " babe " or 
*• infant." 

Our sole purpose in this exposition of principles 
is to bring to attention the laws which operate in 
the growth of mind, in putting the knowledge we 
have gained at our disposal. Hence we wish to 
emphasize the fact that the law of association acts 
most fully when the original cognitions are most 
vivid. Dim perceptions supply but little for asso- 
ciations to work upon. For this reason much that 
has had some place in life has faded away. There 
can be no effective association without clear and 
well-defined knowledge lying back of it. Associa- 
tion is the link, but there must be material to be 
joined by these links. This requires interested 
attention in the gaining of knowledge. 

In association we have the track along which 
memory — both voluntary and involuntary — moves. 

71 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

A thousand things belonging to the past come up 
before us because memory has struck the trail along 
which they exist. When the will is employed in 
our search for the past it is to find the track that 
leads to it. We do not accidentally and outside of 
the operation of law gather up the treasures of the 
mind which were wrought out in retreating time. 
Not more strictly is it true that all the stars in the 
heavens are held together by the force of grayita- 
tion, making nature one, than that the elements of 
our knowledge are in association which experience 
has supplied, but unfortunately it i-s also true that 
many of our mental acquisitions are too indistinct 
to be of much service. Intense mental action at 
every step in life would supply a world of stars of 
the first magnitude lying in the background of each 
moment as we move on into the future. 



CHAPTEE Xyil 
SECOND FORMS OF K^OWIjEI>GE— Continued 

(THE LIFE AS PERPETUATED BY MEMORY) 

The value of knowledge as knowledge is two- 
fold. 1. It is information, it is light. It is ma- 
terial on which the mind acts. It does not have 
an independent existence. The mind does not act 

72 



LIFE AS PEEPETUATED BY MEMOEY 

on that which is outside of itself, but on that which 
is within, for the outer world is beyond apprehen- 
sion till sensations stir the brain and awaken the 
mind. 2. It is an energy of the mind. It is dif- 
ficult to see how there can be talent or power in 
the absence of knowledge. Conscious knowledge 
is a stimulation of intellect, it is intellect at work 
upon and according to some specific object. As 
without intellect there can be no knowledge, so 
without knowledge there can be no productive en- 
ergy of mind. Education is the mind's intelligence. 
There is no education held by the mind as a sepa- 
rable realityo Truth lives forever ; ideas have no 
existence outside of mind, and only in the action 
of mind. They are mind at work, and cease to be 
when the mind is unemployed. Make a library of 
all the thoughts of the race, and then should the 
race perish, the library being still in existence, the 
ideas would have perished. Learning, knowledge, 
ideas, are mind movements, out of existence when 
out of consciousness, brought into existence again 
when through reproductive power they once more 
take shape in the mind. 

In saying these things we do not mean that past 
intellectual work has become valueless when we 
cease to be conscious of it. It has produced an 
energy in our being that can never perish. There 
is accumulated power which can make the past 
live again ; that which has gone can be revived by 
the touch of mind as though by a magician's wand. 

73 



MAN-BUILDING 

Under laws of association we hold on to the past. 
Memory makes known to us our identity from the 
beginning of conscious life up to the present, and 
to this it probably will certify during our entire 
immortality. Though sleep breaks in upon the 
flow of consciousness, and at times there may be 
prolonged illness in which we lose sight of all real- 
ities, yet memory reaches back over these dark 
periods and gazes on the experiences of the years 
long since gone by. These experiences have not 
only historic certitude but an abiding existence in 
the life of the present hour. They were ours once, 
they are ours still. The present minute means 
more than the sixty seconds of time it covers ; in it 
is a life wrought, it may be, into sublime realiza- 
tions of good or degraded conditions of evil. We 
could not well dispense with the ability to recall 
the past, for this life would be disintegrated or 
perish moment by moment and it is of the highest 
importance that the treasures of the past shall en- 
rich our lives, making us in the present wiser and 
nobler than we otherwise would be. Could the 
young be led to realize that every deed is imperish- 
able; that every thought will cling to the soul; 
that every word spoken has an echo that will never 
die; that every impulse works its way into the 
fibres of being and will not let go its hold, all of 
these exalting or debasing character, so that the 
future is a living out the forces implanted in the 
days of the past, the controlling energy of the years 

74 



LIFE AS PEEPETUATED BY MEMOEY 

through which they have come would be appreci- 
ated. Memory in the exercise of its specific office 
summons as witnesses that which was good and 
that which was evil. It goes back to childhood 
and brings before us the scenes of our early years. 
We hear a mother's voice and the commands of a 
father. We gaze upon the circle at the fireside and 
live over again the scenes through which we passed 
in our home life. Our school-days appear in view, 
and the tasks we successfully performed and the 
failures we made come back to us again. Memory 
tells us of duties discharged and responsibilities 
shirked ; of that which was noble or ignoble in our 
deeds. The ambitions we cherished, with the 
methods to which we resorted to realize those 
ambitions, stare us in the face. We have in our 
possession the evidence of that which was worthy 
or unworthy as food for reflection, giving us pleas- 
ure or pain. That which was upright continually 
bestows blessings upon us, while the evil we have 
done is a perpetual wound — a running sore — in 
our moral nature, and an instigation to conscience 
to apply her stripes. Memory is truthful, a wit- 
ness that cannot be impeached. John B. Gough 
was accustomed to say : " I would give my right 
hand to banish from memory the scenes of my 
earlier years." 

The indestructibility of memory should make 
parents careful as to the influence of the home, and 
watchful as to the associations into which their 

75 



MAN-BUILDING 

children are thrown during the tender years of 
their life. The principle applies to the unnum- 
bered things which make up the experiences of 
youth, of manhood, and womanhood — the books 
that are read ; the songs that are sung ; the asso- 
ciations of the schoolroom ; the attendance upon 
church or absence from the house of God; the 
social circles in which the young move ; all that 
for good or evil enters into the education of the 
young, shaping character and supplying scenes on 
which we gaze for the ennobling or the degradation 
of our being. Thus we are to-day what we were 
yesterday ; the yesterday, though gone, still works 
in our life. The sports of youth, the studies of 
youth, the association of youth, the purposes 
formed and ambitions cherished, whatever had 
made up the years of the past linger both in char- 
acter and in their imagery to give reality to the 
present. What we work out to-day bears but a 
small proportion to the content of our being, which 
memory may at any time bring back into con- 
sciousness. With what care should each day be 
lived that the to-morrow be richer in knowledge, 
wiser in purpose, nobler in thought, purer in im- 
agination, more perfect in character, and happier 
in the consciousness of an upright past. 



76 



KEPKODUCTION AS IMAGINATION 

CHAPTER XVIII 

SECOND FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE— (aow^mwetZ) 
(reproduction as imagination) 

Imagination, in general terms, is the power of 
imaging. In the act of memory there is reproduc- 
tion of some particular perceptions recognized as 
such ; in an act of imagination there is the repro- 
duced image without necessary recognition. The 
past cannot be literally brought forward to the 
present to become an object of perception, but it 
can be reproduced in the mind as it had appeared 
when perceived. Through the senses we, day by 
day, are observers of material things. We per- 
ceive them through sight and hearing, through 
touch and taste and smell. They make on the 
mind impressions of objects as to size, form, color, 
sound, roughness, smoothness, taste, fragrance — 
properties almost innumerable. By means of 
these experiences, there is developed in the mind 
distinct apprehension of the different properties 
possessed by material objects. The words square, 
triangular, round, red, yellow, green, rough, sweet, 
bitter, loud, shrill, etc., have a meaning to us in 
the absence of material manifestations for which 
they stand. We have gained specific notions relat- 

77 



MAN-BUILDING 

ing to a variety of properties or phenomena, and 
can image them after the objects in which the 
properties appeared are beyond the reach of our 
senses. 

It is necessary to bear in mind that imagination 
is supplied with its material — that from which its 
images are formed — by the knowledge and experi- 
ences of the past in the natural world. The in- 
numerable objects, varied scenes, and changing 
phenomena of the months and years gone by, 
which have made their impressions on the mind, 
furnish the content of all the reproductions or im- 
ages which imagination holds up before us. We 
repicture them, in wholes or in parts, singly or in 
groups, unchanged or in combination, by an in- 
voluntary inflow of the past, or through a purpose- 
ful selection from the vast field of experience. 

Anything in the past may be more or less clearly 
imaged. It is the scenery which has been woven 
and hung up before us, and upon which we can 
gaze. We are, in the action of imagination, what 
we have made ourselves to be by the life we have 
lived. It is this which largely gives a meaning to 
the language we use, makes communication one 
with another intelligible, and supplies a ground- 
work for all progress and improvement. 

But it must not be supposed that all the past 
comes back to us with equal vividness. The im- 
agination is controlled by its dominant perceptions. 
The picture gallery of the soul is hung with views 

78 



REPRODUCTION AS IMAGINATION 

drawn by the brush that painted the deepest colors 
in the panorama of previous experience. He who 
has dwelt amid, and been stirred by, the crags and 
bold mountain scenery naturally traverses in im- 
agination those regions which have been seen to 
be so bold and rugged. There may pass from your 
vision the events of the placid days while out upon 
the ocean, but the shipwreck you witnessed abides 
with you in fadeless colors. He paints war scenes 
most vividly who has gazed most intently upon its 
horrors. To appreciate maternal tenderness we 
must feel the touch of a mother's hand. The beauty 
of a lovely landscape which had charmed your vis- 
ion comes into view many, many times, while all 
about it has perished from your imagination. The 
stores which the imagination holds have been 
gathered from that which has made the deepest 
impression, which has interested you the most. 

The imagination is active in every rational move- 
ment. The architect in planning a building sees 
it all before a brick is laid or a nail driven. The 
inventor conceives an end to be reached, and then 
constructs a device to achieve the desired result. 
The general makes his plan of campaign before 
giving a single order to his troops. The farmer 
sows his seed in the autumn for the harvest to be 
reaped the coming summer. The young man 
chooses his vocation in view of anticipated results 
to be attained fifty years hence. 

We are all the time reaching out beyond the 

79 



MAN-BUILDIISrG 

present. This is involved in a life governed by 
motives. We picture the future and prepare for it. 
The years to come rise up before us and we make 
our plans to fill this picture with concrete experi- 
ences. In the very simplest things imagination is 
employed — in the order the housewife makes for 
the dinner ; in calling on the grocer for a pound of 
tea ; in constructing steps for entrance at the door 
of our dwelling. Something comes up before the 
mind, is there imaged, before acts are performed. 

"Were it not for the imagination classified knowl- 
edge would be impossible. Language is made of 
general or class terms. Objects which resemble 
each other are put into a class by themselves be- 
cause of such resemblance. In this way our 
knowledge is organized. The multeity is reduced 
to a unity. The almost countless objects are ar- 
ranged in a limited number of classes, and we have 
terms standing for these several classes. All com- 
mon names are class-terms. Thus the words 
mountain, valley, lake, tree, house, man, animal, bi- 
ped, quadruped, etc., stand for classes which pos- 
sess certain characteristics common to all the ob- 
jects in the same class. Hence the word mountain, 
to the reader, has a specific meaning, and when a 
certain elevation of land is seen or spoken of it is 
called a mountain if it contains the characteristics 
common to that class. You have in your mind — 
in your imagination — the characteristics of the 
class as to elevation, etc., or you could not put 

80 



EEPKODUCTIOK AS IMAGINATIOK 

this particular elevation into the class ; you would 
not even know what the word meant. He who 
reads intelligently any page, or listens to any 
speaker employs his imagination in connection 
with every common noun — class term — used ; and 
it must be continually at work if the printed page 
or spoken address conveys to him any intelligent 
meaning. 

It is impossible to conceive of any mental power 
of more value than this. It comes into use at the 
very beginning of our intelligence. It has a place 
in all knowledge. Even in perception, the first com- 
plete form of knowledge, imagination is employed 
if the object discerned by the senses has any sig- 
nificance. To perceive trees along the wayside, 
cattle in the field, horses harnessed to a carriage, 
so that to yourself or to another you can assert 
that these definite objects have been perceived, yon 
must in your perceptions put each into the class 
where it belongs. To call one set of objects trees, 
another cattle, and another horses is to make class 
distinctions ; and when you see a portion of the 
vegetable world as trees, or of the animal world as 
cattle or horses, you discern them as conforming 
to certain great class realities which class realities 
are purely creations of your imagination. All 
class-notions are formed and held in the mind by 
the imagination, though constructed according to 
principles of classification and reasoning. 

This leads us to say that science in its unfold' 

81 



MAN-BUILDING 

ings is largely indebted to the imagination. The 
progressive scientist does not rest on what is al- 
ready determined, as a finality, but finds in it a 
prophecy of something more, as yet in the region 
of the unknown. There are problems still to be 
solved. But how is the solution to be reached ? 
The unknown should correspond, in vital partic- 
ulars, with the known, but cannot be wholly like 
it ; there must be something in addition to the 
known. The search for the new or unlike, on the 
basis of the like, calls for sharp discrimination in 
the field of the probable. To discover is to widen 
the known out into new fields into which imagina- 
tion has penetrated, and must penetrate before 
science determines what is real. Imagination pro- 
jects an ideal, and science verifies or disproves the 
ideal. The hypothesis precedes the verification. 

Scientists construct theories before they make 
positive determinations. Newton conceived of 
universal gravitation some time before he was able 
by mathematical calculation to prove its existence. 
In all scientific advancement the theoretical pre- 
cedes the positive. Evolution, in a radical or 
modified form, is accepted by all students of sci- 
ence ; but as yet it is only a probability as a solu- 
tion of the problems of nature. 



82 



USE AND ABUSE OF IMAGINATION 

CHAPTEK XIX 
SECOND FORMS OF KN0WL1E>T>GE— Continued 

(USE AND ABUSE OF IMAGINATION) 

Peesons, though having the same employment 
and actuated by the same motives, do not live pre- 
cisely the same life. The forces within the soul 
react unequally on that which comes from without. 
No two individuals will give identically the same 
report of an address to which they had listened. 
The reports may not contradict each other, but 
will be diverse, because, and to the extent, of dif- 
ferences in the mental furnishings of the listeners. 
These differences are found principally in the do- 
main of the imagination, that which the mind of 
the listener supplies as the words fall on the ear. 
We clothe from our own personality that which is 
imparted to us. Witnesses in court, though strictly 
honest, are sure to give testimony in which there 
are varying elements depending on the varying 
impressions received from the scene on which 
they have g^zed. 

No other faculty of the mind is so liable to dis- 
order as the imagination. Insanity is not an 
aberration of judgment, it is not moral obliquity 
in which there is false reasoning, but it is the sub- 

83 



MAN-BUILBING 

jective mistaken for the objective ; it is the imagi- 
nation running wild, obscuring the real. Mental 
images take the place of outward objects. In hal- 
lucinations the imaging faculty is abnormally ac- 
tive, the unreal appears as the real, but the judg- 
ment is not deceived. The images "will not 
down " but they are known to be only images. 

There is what is called day-dreaming, in which 
there is no mental disease, but an excessive and 
exclusive action of the imagination. It is harmful 
in that it , fosters the divorcing of energies which 
should act jointly ; it is an unbalanced state of 
mind. Imagination is valuable in mental copart- 
nership, but should not be allowed to occupy the 
whole field hj itself. That is the best condition 
of mind in which there is purposeful thinking to- 
ward some definite end, all under control of the 
will. To plan is very different from castle-build- 
ing ; to move consistently through the great world 
of thought is wholly unlike the floating of the 
imagination through unreal fields whose posses- 
sions are wholly unattainable. One is earnest, 
serious, and disciplinary ; the other unnerves the 
mind and squanders our energies. 

The imagination grows from that upon which it 
feeds. The child that is born into a vicious home 
takes into its life poison which will never be 
wholly eradicated. Yicious surroundings in a 
community create peril for the moral life long after 
the youth ceases to gaze upon them. Vile reading 

84 



USE AND ABUSE OF IMAGINATION 

contaminates the fountains of the soul, though th© 
polhiting publications be immediately cast into 
the flames. He who spends his youth in the 
midst of virtuous associations will find coming back 
to him in after years visions which will charm the 
life and strengthen his purposes for the right. 
The life of to-day is what we have made it to be. 
The boy pictures Indian battle-scenes because he 
has read of bloody carnage among the wild men of 
the forest. Many a lad has had glowing visions 
of pillage because his soul had been filled with 
images of successful robbery. It is because of 
this law of reproduction — creating an atmosphere 
pure or impure, wholesome or poisonous — that it 
may truthfully be said that " The child is the 
father of the man." The imagination pays inter- 
est on our investments — for good or evil — a thou- 
sand fold. 

Imagination is capable of exercising almost 
unlimited control over the body. Young men 
without number have plunged into every form of 
vice through the passions which this faculty has 
stimulated. To keep the body under, the imagi- 
nation must be restrained from the dark paths of 
evil and directed to fields that are pure. Much of 
that which is called realistic in literature is terri- 
bly harmful, from the painting of vile scenes, 
though they be condemned in words. To pict- 
ure vice in order to make it loathsome is worse 
than folly : its tendency is to corrupt the imag- 

85 



MAK^-BUILDING 

ination and prepare for the surrender of the moral 
life. 

The normal activities of the body are to a great 
extent under the control of the imagination. Many 
astonishing results have followed its stimulation. 
The senses of taste and smell are often at its mercy. 
Tell a child, and many a grown person too, that 
the cream is sour and it will taste sour, though 
perfectly sweet. Halleck speaks of a member 
of a family purchasing some perfectly fresh meat 
who remarked at the table that he was sorry he 
did not have some Frenchmen as guests at dinner, 
since the meat would exactly suit them, as it was 
so gamy and tender that it would not hang on the 
butcher's hook. Some at once perceived an un- 
mistakably putrid taste ; and one member of the 
family, unable to endure the odor, left the table. 
Many instances of death, from action of the imagi- 
nation, have been recorded, such as the following : 
A man was sentenced to die by the court. He was 
blindfolded, a harmless incision was made in the 
arm and tepid water allowed to trickle down it, 
the attendants commenting on the progress of the 
case — the flow of blood, the weakening of the 
pulse, etc. — ^the criminal, supposing it all to be 
genuine, soon died. Illustrations of the power of 
the imagination over the body could be given al- 
most without number. Indeed ever^^one has felt 
this influence to a greater or less extent. 

While the imagination is called into action in all 

86 



USE AND ABUSE OF IMAGUSTATIOISr 

our knowledge, for we cannot have every object to 
which knowledge relates present at every moment, 
there are some domains of mental activity in which 
it is specially active. This is true in the fine arts 
generally. The painter conceives and then works 
out an ideal scene. The sculptor employs his 
chisel to find in the marble the conceptions he has 
formed. The musician mentally hears the strain 
before he produces its concrete expression. As an 
artist he goes far beyond the mechanism of the 
composition and charms you with music which 
cannot be printed on the page. That which is 
most exquisite is not embedded in the muscles of 
the fingers, but breathes out from the soul. Poetry 
is not rhyme or inverted phrases, but imagery 
wrought out by the imagination, whether expressed 
in metre or in prose form. Kigid didactic utter- 
ances never reach the inspiration of eloquence ; it 
is only as imagination clothes the theme in the 
forms and colorings of beauty that the audience 
is taken captive by the speaker. 

To guide the imagination, make a proper choice 
of the objects of perception and attention. To 
quicken and strengthen the imagination, (1) 
Cause your perceptions to be vivid and intense. 
(This is under the same law that operates in 
memory.) (2) Give special prominence to the 
reading, studies, and conversation which call into 
exercise the image-making faculty. In doing this, 
accustom yourself to make the imagery of thought 

87 



MAN-BUILDING 

clear and vivid. Do not allow yourself to stop 
with the words, but reach out for their content. 
That which is vividly produced will be vividly re- 
produced. 



CHAPTER XX 

THIRD FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
(first step— concepts) 

We have considered two forms of knowledge 
the human being gains — the presentative and rep- 
resentative. We do not see how the intellect 
could be developed without perception, imagina- 
tion, and memory. But with these alone the scope 
of intellectual activity would be much less than 
our daily needs. 

In defining man he is called " a rational animal." 
He is an animal in common with all the brute 
world, but to distinguish him from the rest of the 
animal kingdom, he is said to possess a rational 
nature, that is, reasoning powers. If this is his 
special differentiating faculty we need, in this 
discussion, to give to it careful scrutiny, and trace 
its development. To perceive, to image our per- 
ceptions, and to recognize them in their time and 
space relations, supply a necessary foundation of 
intelligence. But there are other forms of knowl- 



CONCEPTS 

edge which become constituents of our life. Our 
senses, in perception, make known to us individ- 
ual things ; imagination images individual things ; 
memory recognizes individual things as imaged 
by the imagination. But mental life would be 
restricted to very narrow limits, if knowledge did 
not go beyond these two fundamental forms. 

The mind possesses the power not only to per- 
ceive objects by means of the senses, but to per- 
ceive relations which such objects sustain to each 
other. Now, relations are as much a reality as 
things, and the mind is as capable of perceiving 
the reality — or actuality — of relations as the real- 
ity of things. It is evident that objects must first 
be known, in order that relations may be observed ; 
but being known they are seen to be more or less 
like each other. At an early age the child notices 
resemblances, and is disposed to call such objects 
as quite closely agree, by the same name. He is 
told, for instance, that a certain animal is a horse. 
He sees other animals which bear a general like- 
ness to his father's horse — in shape, in movement, 
in the use to which it is put, and he calls them all 
horses. He has gained the conception of class. 
This process of associating objects together to 
form classes goes on indefinitely, so that in time 
he gives a class name to everything he perceives. 
The mental process is comparison. In comparing 
he notices agreements and differences ; he joins 
objects together in the same class because of 

89 



MAK-BUILDING 

agreements, lie separates into different classes 
those things which are unlike. He learns to dis- 
tinguish, so as to call one animal a horse, another 
a cow, another a dog, etc., because of marked 
differences seen to exist. In this way he builds 
up as many classes as the radical differences ob- 
served. This is the first step in thinking. We 
call it conception. In perceiving a single object, 
simply as an object, without relation to a class, we 
have what may be called a primary or first notion ; 
but perceived as a constituent of a class, we have 
a class or general notion. An object appearing 
to the sense of sight, simply as having a certain 
shape, color, movement, etc., unrelated to any- 
thing else, is merely an object, one of millions 
of objects, it may be ; when it is perceived as a 
horse it stands for a class, and it means much 
more to us than simply a thing. In this way 
nature and all realities become organized into 
class wholes as a process of thought. This is the 
first step which the mind takes in acquiring the 
third form of knowledge. It gains class-notions. 
The mental operation is spoken of as conception — 
the product as a concept, a general or class-notion. 
Along with this work of gaining general notions 
there has been a development of language. We 
have before called attention to the fact that every 
name, or common noun, expresses a class-notion. 
It has also been said in a previous chapter that 
our language is full of class-terms. We use them 

90 



CONCEPTS 

in expressing our thoughts, in all verbal inter- 
course, in all written communications, even in 
thinking itself. Hence, as we have said, language 
and concept — making progress side by side, they 
develop together and they cannot be separated. 
Into the terms the notions are crystallized. The 
class-word stands for the class-notion. The notion 
nestles in the word, it gives meaning to the word, 
and the word is the vehicle of the notion. 

By this form of knowledge we do not enlarge 
the field of the senses, but scrutinize, organize, 
and give meaning to that which the senses make 
known to us. We extend our knowledge though 
we do not increase the number of objects in the 
world of sense: Yet we come to know much more 
about objects of sense. The statement frequently 
made, that we do not thus add to our knowledge, 
shows great lack in the understanding of the sub- 
ject. It is true we unfold what was before en- 
folded, Vv^e- make explicit only what was implicit ; 
but it was enfolded in the thing, implicit in the 
thing, not enfolded and implicit in the mind. 

Nothing enlarges our field of view more than the 
employment of this elaborative faculty. Much of 
advanced thinking consists in enlarging, correct- 
ing, deepening, and making more definite the class- 
notions formed. This is true in every field of 
science, in every domain of study and the arts, in 
every sphere of human activity. Indeed, civiliza- 
tion means so much more to-day than in the past, 

91 



MAN-BUILDING 

not in that new worlds have been discovered, but 
because of what has been wrought out in the world 
already within reach of our senses. The future will 
surpass the present because of the deeper penetra- 
tion into the nature and relations of things. 

In defining man " a rational animal," we first 
discover his superiority in the capability of form- 
ing concepts or class-notions. Nature is not to him 
objects only, but classes of objects. All parts are 
interdependent, nothing is in isolation. We have 
reached the highest generalization of these vast 
creations, in that sublime unity of all their parts 
to which we apply the designation, ''Universe." 
It turns, moves, and proceeds as a whole. From 
this we progress by a series of subordinate grada- 
tions, from larger to smaller concepts, until we 
finally reach the individual. Or tracing in the 
opposite direction, which is the psychological, we 
ascend in our notions from the individual up to 
the class, consisting of several individuals put 
together because of their resemblance ; thence up 
to higher class-notions from the union of lower 
concepts, till at last we grasp the all, as the high- 
est concept possible to secure in the unity of the 
whole. This grasping of the all, no portion of the 
animal kingdom below man can do. Its powers 
are defective in the very first step essential to 
thinking. It is guided by sense, but it is not rea- 
sonable to suppose that definite abstract concep- 
tions are formed. 



JUDGMENTS 

CHAPTEK XXI 

THIRD FORMS OF KI^OWIjEDGF,— (Continued) 

(SECOND STEP— judgments) 

The mind in its work of elaboration does not 
stop with the classification of objects — the produc- 
tion of class-notions — but discovers that the classes 
of which notions are formed sustain relations to 
each other. These notions possess agreement or 
disagreement — that is something may be said affir- 
matively or negatively of them as well as of the 
individuals which compose them. Every proposi- 
tion or simple sentence is an illustration of this 
fact, as for instance, " Man is mortal," " the 
weather is cold," "Man is a biped," "horses are 
quadrupeds," " birds possess wings," " some men 
are learned." Or negatively, " some men are not 
learned," " horses are not bipeds," " air is not a 
solid," " water will not intoxicate," " no human be- 
ing is omniscient." 

Language is almost wholly made up of proposi- 
tions, either affirmative or negative, because our 
knowledge or thinking consists of the perception 
of agreement or disagreement in the relation things 
and classes of things bear to each other. This 
shows a distinct advance on the plane of thinking 



MAN-BUILDINU 

over the formation of class-notions. Something is 
affirmed or denied — in whole or in part — of all class 
objects. The affirmation or denial is a judgment. 
Did the mind stop with the formation of concepts, 
the work done would be comparatively useless. 
We need to understand the character of these 
general notions, their place in the great world of 
being or action, the use to which they can be 
put, the lessons they teach, etc. Every page of 
any book contains scores of declarations — ex- 
pressed judgments — of an affirmative or nega- 
tive character. 

All communications, whether vocal, written, or 
printed, are made up of propositions in which 
something is said about the objects for which gen- 
eral notions stand, or in which class realities are 
put into relations with individuals. 

Largely judgments grow out of observation and 
experience. They are gradually acquired as the 
days and years go by ; as new fields of activity 
and study are traversed ; as the attention is turned 
successively toward the realities by which we are 
surrounded. The farmer draws out from his oc- 
cupation one set of judgments, the merchant an- 
other, the mechanic another, the lawyer another, 
the physician another, the minister still another. 
We are constantly accumulating judgments which, 
if accurate, represent knowledge. The acquisitions 
of scholarship are an enlargement of the field of 
accurate judgments, the extension of the field of 



JUDGMENTS 

thought in the direction in which scholarship is 
prosecuted. 

We should not make the mistake of supposing 
that judgments are always reliable ; any mental 
affirmation is a judgment, whether true or false. 
The child's view of everything of which he gains 
some knowledge is sure to change as he gets a 
better and fuller understanding of the world in 
which he lives. Persons of mature years are con- 
stantly correcting the opinions they had formed. 
Further light dispels delusions vrhich had lurked 
in the darkness. But true or false, accurate or in- 
accurate, judgments are the mode of the mind's 
action in passing on beyond the mere classifica- 
tion of objects of sense, or class-notions in any 
department of being or reality. 

All thinking must be carried forward under law. 
There are fixed conditions for the formation and 
development of judgments. All logicians agree 
that there are three primary laws of thought. 
They are a necessity, we cannot do otherwise than 
to observe them if legitimate conclusions are 
reached. 

1. Laio of Identity, — Whatever is is. A thing 
must be identical with itself. To the same words 
unlike meanings are sometimes given, but then 
they are not the same things, and when employed 
in different parts of an argument they must be 
used in the same sense or no conclusion can be 
reached. We do not bring forward any proof of 

95 



MAN-BUILDING 

the law of identity, it is not susceptible of proof 
because it is fundamental, and is seen with the 
force of absolute certainty. If a judgment is true 
to-day it will be true to-morrow, it always has 
been true and it always will be. Thus man is man, 
animals are animals. 

We do not mean by this that nature stands still, 
that theories remain unchanged, that civilization 
has always the same content. We know it to be 
true that the present condition of the material uni- 
verse is the product of the action of innumerable 
forces through an indefinitely long period of time ; 
that on the earth changes are constantly taking 
place ; that nothing is stable, and that man him- 
self is never twice alike in his powers, his charac- 
ter, and his life. We know that change is the 
law of being. But when we speak of the law of 
identity, when we say that whatever is is, that 
a thing is identical with itself, we are affirming 
that terms must be used in the same sense in all 
parts of the same argument, otherwise endless con- 
fusion must result. Without this there can be no 
argument. We may speak of man as mortal or as 
immortal, but in the same connection we must con- 
fine our judgment to one of the two meanings. 
We may not use the two interchangeably. Man the 
mortal is mortal ; man the immortal is immortal. 
The law of identity is introduced into logic, in all 
valid thinking, to make judgments precise. 

2. Laio of Contradiction (perhaps better called 



JUDGMEiSTTS 

Laio of N'on-contradiction). — A thing cannot at the 
same time and place both be and not be. A man 
cannot be both honest and dishonest at the same 
time. Of two different transactions one may be 
honest and the other dishonest, but the same trans- 
action cannot be both honest and dishonest. When 
two propositions are contradictory, they cannot 
both be true. This second law follows from the 
first as a necessity. It is only another form of 
statement of the same thing. An object cannot be 
red and not red. 

3. Law of Excluded Middle. — Everything must 
either be or not be, there is no alternative, no mid- 
dle course. An apple is either sour or not sour, 
an orange is either round or not round. In every- 
thing there is some particular quality or the ab- 
sence of such quality, one or the other. It must 
be borne in mind that the only opposite to a qual- 
ity or statement is the negative of such quality or 
statement. We say that a man is either tall or not 
tall, we may not say that he is tall or short, for he 
might be of medium height. 

Another law is given by some writers called The 
Laio of Sufficient Reason. Everything — event, phe- 
nomenon, or relation — must have a reason for its 
being, and being what it is. We cannot conceive 
of anything coming into existence, anything trans- 
piring, without a cause — an adequate or suJBQcient 
cause. A man is found dead on the street, there 
must have been a cause of death. 

97 



MAN-BUlLDINa 

The above are laws conditioning and regulating 
thouglit. They are self-evident, they do and must 
operate in all our judgments. 



CHAPTEE XXII 

THIRD FORMS OF KNOWJjEBGtB— {Continued) 
(third step— reasoning) 

" As in the judgment," says Halleck, " we com. 
pare two concepts and decide that they agree or 
differ, so in reasoning we compare two judgments. 
From this comparison we draw a third judgment, 
thus completing a process of reasoning." It is 
hence seen that there are three, and only three 
stages in thought : 1. Conception. 2. Judgment. 
3. Eeasoning. The product of these are : 1. Con- 
cepts. 2. Judgments. 3. Argument. Concepts 
and judgments we have briefly discussed ; reason- 
ing or argument we must now consider. 

As in conception we construct classes out of in- 
dividual objects, and in judgment we state the re- 
lation of classes — comparing one with another — so 
in reasoning we compare judgments. An argu- 
ment is a process of thought in which by compar- 
ing judgments an inference or conclusion is drawn. 
Elaboration or thought goes no farther than this. 

There are two distinct forms of reasoning, called 



BEASOOTNG 

in logic, the deductive and the inductive. In the 
deductive we reason from the general to the par- 
ticular. That which can be affirmed of a class can 
be affirmed of all the particulars which make up 
the class. It is an axiom, as will appear when 
stated as follows. That which can be affirmed of 
all — not collectively but distributively — can be af- 
firmed of each. For instance : 

All men are mortal. 
John is a man — therefore 
John is mortal. 

If true of all men, it must be true of John who 
is a man. 

In the negative form, that which can be denied 
of all can be denied of each. 

No man is perfect. 
John is a man — therefore 
John is not perfect. 

Find what is true of a class, either positively or 
negatively, and it must be true of each of the parts 
which make up the class. 

We call the argument thus formally stated a 
syllogism. " The name syllogism means the join- 
ing together in thought of two propositions " from 
which a third is drawn. We have thus in a syllo- 
gism three propositions or judgments, the first two 
are called premises, as they are the ground-work 
of the conclusion ; they contain within themselves 



UOf& 



MAN-BUILDING 

the reason for the conclusion. The third judgment 
is called the conclusion or inference, because it is 
drawn from the foregoing. 

It is important to bear in mind also that every 
syllogism has three and only three terms, and 
hence that each term appears twice. The terms 
are named respectively major term, minor term, 
and middle term. The premise usually stated first, 
is called the major premise, and contains the ma- 
jor and middle terms. The premise that follows — 
the minor premise — contains the minor and middle 
terms. The conclusion found by comparing the 
major and minor piomises by means of a common 
term — called middle term — contains the major and 
minor terms. The reason for comparing the major 
and minor premises is to find the relation between 
the major and minor terms. The only purpose of 
introducing the middle term is that we may have 
a common means or measure of comparison. In 
the major premise we compare the major term 
with the middle term as just stated ; in the minor 
premise we compare the minor term with the mid- 
dle term ; and if the major and minor terms both 
agree with the middle term, they must agree with 
each other. The conclusion states the resulting 
agreement of the major and minor terms. The 
middle term is only a medium of comparison, as, in 
practical life, the surveyor's chain, the yard meas- 
ure in the store, the pound weight on the scales in 
the grocery. We find agreement in length by using 

100 



REASONING 

the yard stick, in quantity by using the pound 
weight. 

Can Henry graduate from College ? Yes. How 
is that? Students who complete the prescribed 
course of study graduate. 

Henry has completed the prescribed course. 

Henry can graduate. 

The question raised related to Henry's gradua- 
tion. In the first premise the condition of gradu- 
ation is stated. 

In the second premise it is affirmed that Henry 
has met the conditions — the completion of the 
course of study, for all students, and for Henry 
consequently — therefore he can graduate. If 
Henry had not completed the prescribed course 
there would be a disagreement with the middle 
term, and therefore the conclusion would be nega- 
tive — he could not graduate. 

The foregoing illustrations are sufficient to en- 
able the reader to understand what is meant by 
deductive reasoning. The conclusion is an explic- 
it statement of what was implicit in the premises. 
In the conclusion nothing is supplied that was not 
in the premises— the preceding judgments — but it 
is unfolded so as to stand out by itself. 

Deduction may be said to be of but little service 
beyond showing the process of mental action. 

In inductive logic the reasoning is from particu- 
lars to the general. It is the process employed in 
detecting the general laws or uniformities, the re- 

101 



MAN-BUILDING 

lations of cause and effect, or, in short, all the 
general truths that may be asserted concerning the 
numberless and diverse events that take place in 
nature and our experience. The greater part, and, 
some philosophers think, the whole of our knowl- 
edge, is ultimately due to inductive reasoning. 
(We cannot admit that it is all due to induction.) 

It has been stated that knowledge begins with 
particular objects. In time it is noticed that many 
of these objects resemble each other, and we asso- 
ciate them together and give them a name in com- 
mon ; and thus, as has been said, we have con- 
cepts. But experience is limited, and we have not 
time or ability to make an exhaustive enumeration 
of objects belonging to any class. Finding certain 
traits or qualities in all the individuals of a class 
so far as observation goes, we conclude these traits 
or qualities will be found in the entire class. This 
is induction. Having found it to be true that all 
men in previous ages of the world have died, we 
infer that all men are mortal. Discovering that no 
man has ever been perfect in knowledge, we come 
to the conclusion that limitation of knowledge is 
inherent in man's nature. Newton discovered that 
gravitation extended to all objects on the earth, 
and he inferred that it prevailed everywhere 
throughout the material universe. Man's inabil- 
ity to annihilate matter, whatever physical or chem- 
ical changes are wrought, has led scientists to hold 
that matter is indestructible. 

102 



REASOMKG 

By this method, and under a mental tendency 
to universalize our experiences, we construct the 
general from particulars ; we reach propositions 
broader than the actual data gathered; we even 
go so far as to believe in and teach a positive uni- 
formity of nature. Every universal principle, ex- 
cept first principles, is based on the knowledge 
and light of experience. It is by induction that 
all science has been built up — in the wide fields of 
chemistry, geology, biology, botany, astronomy, 
and even in psychology. Uniformities proclaim 
law. All advancement is step by step along the 
pathway of experience and discovery, eventuating 
in the generalization of particulars. No general 
judgment has ever been formed but that extended 
beyond the limit of direct observation. We pro- 
ceed from the known to the unknown by virtue of 
certain discovered agreements which, we hold, 
authorize the extension of our theories beyond 
the range of actual investigation. 

It is evident there is much liability to error in 
the inductions we make. This grows out of the 
finiteness of our powers and the limitation of our 
opportunities. Bat if in our investigations we can 
go down so deeply as to find the fundamental lines 
of unity and diversity, agreements and differences 
which are radical, not accidental, we come much 
nearer to absolute certainty. Many a coincidence 
is not based on a principle, there is no law back 
of it. But if there is mathematical proportion, or 

103 



MAN-BUILDING 

structural correspondence, or functional similarity 
there is a basis in our inductions for a conclusion 
almost absolutely certain. 

Such is the life which we as thinkers lead. We 
progress step by step. We form judgments, com- 
pare and combine them, we move on from one 
logical determination to another. Concepts are 
wrought out and combined to form judgments ; 
judgments are united in reasoning; one conclu- 
sion becomes the premise in further argument, thus 
every part of the universe of thought and being is 
traversed with more or less skill, and successful 
achievement in unfolding truth. 



CHAPTEE XXIII 

THE LOGIC OF DEEDS 

In defining man as a rational animal we desig- 
nated the sphere he is made to fill. The life of a 
human being is distinctively and characteristically 
a life of thought. He is capable of making a 
choice, acting under a purpose, looking definitely 
toward some end. He forms plans and employs 
means to execute the same. He is not like the 
lower animal world, swayed by instinct, but has a 
reason for what he does. In the gaining of a live- 
lihood, in the pursuit of fame, in his efforts to 

104 



THE LOGIC OF DEEDS 

acquire scholarship, in practical politics, in the 
study of statesmanship, in the mastering of a pro- 
fession everything is done for a purpose. Some 
desirable end is perceived ; the judgment is exer- 
cised ; conclusions are reached and acts follow. 

Agriculture, for instance, is a great problem 
into which innumerable elements enter. These 
are questions of soil, of climate, of the seasons, of 
the chemical constitution of the various crops, of 
soil exhaustion and soil fertilization, of drainage, 
of rotation of crops, of the time for seeding, of the 
time and mode of harvesting, of the markets, of 
grazing, of preparation of food for stock, of the 
housing of stock — questions chemical, mechanical, 
commercial, and sanitary, which must all be con- 
sidered to secure successful results. Premises are 
laid down and conclusions drawn. From the vari- 
ableness of conditions the premises are constantly 
changing, requiring new conclusions. The farmer 
will prosper only as he handles with skill these 
complex questions, as he sees sharply and reasons 
wisely. 

When the merchant fails it is usually because 
he has made a mistake in his logic. He occupies 
a place between the producer and the consumer. 
He must buy and sell. What shall he buy ? That 
which he can sell. Shall he invest in certain new 
productions, productions which have never been 
on the market before ? Can he find sale for such 
goods ? The answer, yes or no, must be an inf er- 

105 



MAN-BUILDING 

ence resting back on many conditions that are 
favorable or unfavorable. In order to do a suc- 
cessful business, he must provide for the public 
what it wants ; he must have his goods on hand 
at a proper season of the year; he must please the 
people as to price and still make a living profit ; 
he must conduct his business so as to attract cus- 
tomers; he must buy, but must not over-buy. 
How to turn over his capital to avoid losses on the 
one hand and make adequate profits on the other, 
requires not only care but wisdom in which a mul- 
titude of facts must co-operate to bring about a 
definite result. It is all a problem of practical 
logic in which accurate and comprehensive reason- 
ing must be employed. He is the best merchant, 
who, in addition to a genuine commercial spirit, 
reasons carefully, broadly, and safely. 

The physician is employed in a sphere in which 
many difficulties must be overcome if any service 
be rendered. Nearly every disease is internal — of 
the lungs, heart, stomach, intestines, the circula- 
tory system, the brain, the spinal cord, different 
membranes, etc. His first work must be that of 
diagnosis. He must determine and locate disease 
while the diseased parts are out of sight — be- 
yond the reach of the senses. His only possible 
method is to reason from symptoms. He must 
employ logic. His knowledge is purely inferen- 
tial. A failure in this may be fatal. But the 
disease once determined, how shall the patient be 

106 



THE LOGIC OF DEEDS 

treated ? Are there specifics ? He who trusts to 
so-called specifics is liable to make mistakes with- 
out number. There may be complications of 
diseases, so that while one person would be bene- 
fited by a certain medicine, another would be 
greatly harmed. Then the constitution must be con- 
sidered, for there may be special tendencies grow- 
ing out of hereditary or local weaknesses. The 
strength of vitality must be taken into the account, 
the condition of the heart, the stage of the disease, 
many things which should modify the treatment if 
health is to be restored. So complex are many of 
the cases which come into the hands of the physi- 
cian, that the utmost care in reading the disease 
and in treating the same is required, and it is not 
strange that mistakes are sometimes made. 

In the application of law to human conduct as 
administered by the courts, it is not easy to secure 
absolute justice. Statutes are not always clear; 
testimony is not infrequently uncertain ; circum- 
stances may enter into the case which were 
unlooked for, and motives are not readily deter- 
mined. Often everything depends on circumstan- 
tial evidence, which needs the most careful sifting. 
Was the alleged offence premeditated, or committed 
on the spur of the moment under special excite- 
ment ? Was the act aggressive or in self-defence ? 
Was the party of sound mind, or insane, or labor- 
ing under a delusion? The attorney argues the 
case — on the law to the judge, and on the testi- 

107 



MAN-BUILDING 

mony to the jury. He gives his reasons for the 
position he assumes, of guilt or innocence of the 
persons arraigned. It is a battle of logic. The 
court seeks to find the truth, as an inference from 
the law quoted, the testimony given, and the argu- 
ments presented. 

The minister, to effect any permanent good, must 
support his appeals with reasons which convince 
the judgment. The statesman aiming to make the 
coimtry prosperous must be able to understand 
the complex forces in operation, to see in advance 
the outcome of proposed legislation ; he must pos- 
sess a prophetic gaze, which is not a guess, but a 
logical reading of the movements of statehood. In 
all industries, in all agencies of progress, in all re- 
formatory operations everything is done for a pur- 
pose, and the means employed have some specific 
end in view. Civilization when regarded from the 
stand-point of the arts, or educational appliances 
and work, or the literature of a people, or the gov- 
ernments and polity of nations has been developed 
by man as a thinking being. All of this is the out- 
come of thought, the product of man's rational 
powers. History is an argument for good or evil. 
The world is to-day what valid or perverted reason 
has made it to be. 



108 



TKAINING OF THOUGHT 

CHAPTER XXIV 
TRAINING OF THE POWERS OP THOUGHT 

The culture of every mental faculty is secured 
by regular, consistent, and vigorous action. Non- 
use results in feebleness. The form of use deter- 
mines the form and direction of development. The 
powers of perception are stimulated and made 
more acute by employing them in discriminating 
attention upon objects of sense. The exercise of 
the imagination gives to this faculty alertness, 
clearness, and scope. And we learn to think by 
thinking — we become logicians by the exercise of 
our logical powers. 

While it is true that in the earliest years of our 
life sense-knowledge predominates — and that it 
was intended that sense-knowledge should at that 
age predominate — yet incipient thinking soon 
makes its appearance. The first step the child 
takes in the world of thought is in the discovery 
of relations existing among the material objects by 
which he is surrounded. He notices resemblances 
and differences, as we have before learned. Ob- 
jects that closely resemble each other he associates 
together, calling them by the same name. Objects 
which do not resemble, that differ from each other, 
he separates, and thus several classes are formed. 

109 



MAN-BUILDING 

This process goes on continually, and in this man- 
ner the external world is organized under class- 
notions. 

The child that gives attention most fully and 
carefully to these relations, lays the best and larg- 
est foundation for reasoning. To cultivate the 
powers of thought the first principle to be enunci- 
ated is this, "Be ever on the hunt for relations." 
Be not content to apprehend individual objects 
only, but gain the habit of tracing their relations. 
Create the tendency to go out beyond the manifes- 
tations of sense into the world of thought. 

The operation of this principle is not confined 
to childhood but should extend through the en- 
tire life, in all fields of scholarship, in every pro- 
fession, in every vocation, through all the domains 
of mental activity. It is fundamental in the arts, 
in politics, in statesmanship, in the proper reading 
of history, in the understanding of science, in the 
analysis of civilization. To stop with sight or 
hearing, or any other sense, is to have a confused 
jumble of objects. It is like gathering the brick, 
leaving them scattered promiscuously about you — 
not arranging them in the walls of a building. 
Everything is relational. The leaf is nothing only 
as it grows out of the twig ; the twig has no sig- 
nificance unless attached to the branch; and the 
branch has no purpose only as seen m vital con- 
nection with the tree. This great world in which 
we live consists of parts, not dissevered, but joined 

110 



TEAINING OF THOUGHT 

in a unity of the whole, interdependent, so that no 
portion of it can be understood out of relation with 
the rest. 

The first thing to be sought for in the domain 
of thought is accurate and full knowledge of rela- 
tions, in nature, in mind, in the industries, in the 
professions, in the rights of persons and things. 
Thought is constructive and is developed by dis- 
criminating observation, by reflection, by every 
effort made to solve the problems which come to 
our attention. 

The principle just enunciated applies to every 
stage of thinking, to the comparing of concepts in 
the formation of judgments, and the comparing of 
judgments in consecutive argument. The direction 
insisted upon, then, is this— give careful attention 
to the processes of reasoning ; create the habit of 
logical consecutiveness and dependence in thought 
so that it will be natural to you ; with accuracy 
seek to gain strong convictions of the reality and 
value of truth in the conclusions reached, and 
thinking will be a pleasure, and the powers of the 
mind will become more mighty. 

The principles we have presented have a bear- 
ing on our intellectual life in whatever field they 
are considered — in business, in student life, etc. 
Beading or studying is often done in a very unprof- 
itable way. The page is hurried over, the words 
are perceived, possibly committed to memory, with 
a very inadequate idea of their depth of meaning. 

Ill 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

It is not enough to see and pronounce the words, 
the attention should be held to each sentence until 
it is fully comprehended. A lexicon should al- 
ways be at hand to define words not fully under- 
stood, and every proposition stated should be 
dwelt upon till its meaning is taken up into the 
mind. 

It is the vice of the age that too many books are 
read, that is, the reading is in a hurried, slipshod 
way. Not only is less knowledge gained, but a 
habit of being satisfied with a mere glance at the 
meaning which the page contains will induce 
superficiality in whatever is undertaken. Many 
persons read too fast. There should be close and 
exhaustive attention, and for this time is a neces- 
sary element. Students going through college lose 
half the benefit they should derive, because of the 
hurried manner in which the work is done. The 
benefit of exhaustive study is seen in cases like the 
following, which we quote from Mahan's "Psychol- 
ogy." After stating that "the judgment is devel- 
oped and improved by means of a habit of careful 
discrimination in respect to objects of thought, 
noticing their points of resemblance and differ- 
ence ; by the habit of careful classification and 
generalization, and of the equally careful refer- 
ence of facts to principles," he says : " One of the 
most eminent mathematicians this country ever 
produced, laid the foundation of his high attain- 
ments by careful study of a single work — the 

112 



TEAINING OF THOUGHT 

common arithmetic. Finding himself on his en- 
trance into college uniformly deficient and behind 
his class, especially in mathematics, he went back 
and took up the treatise referred to and studied it, 
until he had not only solved every problem pre- 
sented, but fully comprehended every principle 
and rule in the science as there treated, and 
furthermore, the reasons and grounds of the valid- 
ity of the rules and principles. The result v/as 
that from that time onward no member of his 
class, and no student in the institution could keep 
in sight of him in any department of mathematics. 
Such are the immutable conditions of attaining a 
strong and well-balanced judgment, and no indi- 
vidual who thus thinks and studies can fail to 
attain this high power. Not a few students be- 
come immutably disciplined in the science of non- 
thinking by the careless, indiscriminating, and 
incomprehensive study of many books." 

There can be no objection on the moral side to 
the reading of romance simply because it is 
romance, and many books belonging to this class, 
may well be studied for the improvement of style 
of composition. But to read novels just for enter- 
tainment during the hour, and not for knowledge 
or personal improvement — doing no thinking — is 
mentally relaxing, and novels are usually read in 
this way. 

To perform the work of classification, of com- 
paring judgments — of reasoning — so as to make it 

113 



MAN-BUILDING 

a habit, and as exhaustively as time and powers 
will permit, must certainly discipline the faculty 
of reasoning. The broader the scholarship the 
more material thought will have to work upon. 
Leading the life of a careful student contributes 
to the resources on which powers of thought may 
be employed, and if these powers are rightly 
employed, there is a constant drill of the under- 
standing. 



CHAPTEK XXV 
FOURTH FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

(first principles) 

Some writers maintain that the three forms pre- 
sented in the foregoing pages comprise the entire 
field of knowledge. From this position, with 
much confidence, we dissent. Knowledge is the 
perception of truth based on grounds evident and 
certain. There may be truth without the knowl- 
edge of it — and beyond the possible knowledge of 
it because of our limited powers. Certainly truth 
of which man has been ignorant has existed 
through all time. The only question we raise is 
as to forms not embraced in presentation, repre- 
sentation, and thought. We have conceptions 
which are not the product of the mind's action in 

114 



FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

either of these modes. Do these conceptions stand 
for reality ? Are they the grasping by the mind 
of that which is actual and certain? That to 
which they relate is not perceived by the senses, 
and therefore it cannot be reproduced as having 
been made known by the senses. It is not a gen- 
eralization of thought, it is not inference. If 
neither of these, what is it? 

That which is known by sense is phenomenal, 
a manifestation through properties. Through im- 
agination and memory we have found that that 
only can be reproduced which had previously been 
produced. Then reasoning takes the material 
these supplied and works it up into classes and 
systems through discovered relations, as we have 
had occasion to say. It is by reasoning we prove 
or demonstrate propositions laid down: It is 
sometimes said that only that is known which is 
demonstrated. Accepting this position nothing 
could be known. You cannot build an argu- 
ment without something to build on. You can- 
not even start an argument without something 
known to start with. Proof is possible only when 
you have truth which does not need to be proven 
as the basis of reasoning. There must be some- 
thing perceived and known or there is nothing to 
reason about. There must be premises accepted 
as true before reasoning becomes possible. 

We have seen that the first knowledge an indi- 
vidual gains is in the apprehension of material 

115 



MAN-BUILDIlsra 

things by means of the senses. This is direct, and 
all accept it as real. The impression made on the 
mind by sight, hearing, touch, etc., is fundamental, 
and the conviction of its reality is irresistible. 
Every one in experience treats it as actual. It is 
the undisputed foundation of business and social 
relations. It is immediate, not mediate or proven. 
Nothing can be proven, as we have just said, 
without something known to prove with. 

If there aro systems of truth there must be first 
principles — necessary, universal ideas. Now can 
such realities be found and known? Not by 
reasoning, for a universal cannot, as has been said, 
be a generalization — it cannot be an inference 
from finite or limited premises. Universal ideas 
cannot be found by logic ; that on which a system 
rests cannot be the product of the system. It can- 
not at the same time be both the foundation and 
the capstone. Universal ideas are a priori, they 
guarantee and verify the system, they do not flow 
from it. They are metaphysical, not relational. 
We hold there are and must be ultimate realities 
in the universe of being, or there could not be that 
which is finite and dependent. Let us examine 
this subject by specific discussion. 

A certain class of philosophers tell us that we 
have no knowledge of substance, only of proper- 
ties or appearances — that for instance matter per 
se cannot be found. If there be material substance 
we have no means of knowing it, they say ; that in 

116 



FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

regard to this mind is necessarily agnostic. We 
answer there cannot be properties unless there is 
something as the basis of properties, that in find- 
ing properties we find the substance. Properties 
are the manifestations of substance, the substance 
declaring itself. There cannot be properties float- 
ing about unanchored, they exist only as inhering 
in something. We say therefore that properties 
imply substance — that material properties imply 
material substances. The opposite of this is un- 
thinkable. Nothing in knowledge can be more 
positive. There is no chance for a mistake. To 
say that we do not find the noumenon — the thing 
per se — only the phenomena, is to utter an absurd- 
ity, and there is nothing absurd in knowledge, " it 
is the agreement of the content of our conceptions 
with reality." It is impossible to construe in 
thought baseless properties. The mind necessarily 
repels as unreal foundationless properties. It is 
by means of them we find substance, and still 
further the nature of the substance. We penetrate 
to the noumena by perceiving the phenomena. 
Properties cannot exist without substance, and 
that which is necessarily implied must be real. 

It is equally certain that there is spirit sub- 
stance. Thought, thinking, implies a thinker. 
To say that there can be perception, memory, 
reasoning, knowledge of any kind without a being 
that perceives, remembers, and reasons is an un- 
mitigated absurdity. Attributes or powers imply 

117 



MAN-BUILDING 

substance possessing these attributes, and just to 
the extent of our knowledge of the attributes. 

This form of knowledge we call intuitional. 
The reality is apprehended and known, not as an 
inference, but directly. It is intuited, it is seen 
at a glance, whenever the attention is called to it. 
It is thus evident that we do not as a result of a 
process find substance, or conclude there is sub- 
stance ; our mental gaze reaches it at once as actual 
and necessary. We may make mistakes in reasoning 
from false premises, or be in error in tracing rela- 
tions, but we cannot make a mistake as to that 
which is necessarily implied. In this field there- 
fore there is not only knowledge, but infallible 
knowledge. It is a first principle. 

Let us look at space, another intuition. We de- 
fine matter as that which has extension, as that 
which occupies space. If there be space, how do 
we know it ? It is not substance, either material 
or spiritual ; it has no content of properties or 
powers. It cannot be detected by any of our 
senses. Neither is it a generalization or inference, 
and if it exists as a reality it is not dependent on 
any other reality. It has not been created, and it 
cannot be put out of existence. It is and can be 
only a condition of the existence of material 
things. We say it is implied in the being of ma- 
terial objects, objects possessing length, breadth, 
and thickness. There could be no objects if there 
was not space. Some writers teach that space is 

118 



FOURTH FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

a relation, that until matter appeared there was no 
space, as it is, they say, but a relation of matter. 
They state what is true when they affirm that there 
could be no here or there were there no bodies. 
These words and conceptions — here and there — do 
express a relation of bodies, but that is place, and 
place is quite a different thing from space. But 
space is an antecedent condition of material 
things — without which material things could not 
have been — but place is only a relation of things 
existing in space. Bodies have extension, so space 
must have extension as occupied by bodies or a 
necessary condition for extension. While it is in- 
capable of exhaustive division because it is illimit- 
able — not only interstellar but extrastellar — yet 
there are relative distances of objects from each 
other in space so that light and objects consume 
time in traversing it. As such we know it with 
absolute certainty — implied in the existence of 
material things and their relations to each other. 

Again, time is implied in succession of events. 
Like space, it is not an object of knowledge to the 
senses, or determined by reasoning, but is known 
as a principle fundamental to experience. We do 
not here use the term in the sense of limited dura- 
tion in contrast with an unending future which is 
called eternity, but as a condition for succession 
for all finite beings in this life and in the future 
state. Under a law of cause and effect one thing 
precedes, another folio wsJ and thus we gain the 

119 



MAK-BUILDII^G 

notion ol time, and of time as of longer or shorter 
duration. Nothing can be more certain than the 
reality of our knowledge as to time as well as to 
space. A minute, an hour, a day, a year, a cen- 
tury, conveys to us a meaning definite in charac- 
ter, of which we have well defined and indisputa- 
ble knowledge. We have gained this knowledge 
through the successive moments which have 
occurred in our lives, and the numberless events 
which have made up the history of the world. 
We have not seen time, but we have traced events 
as they have successively transpired, and these 
events have required time. That events could 
transpire without time in which they transpire is 
unthinkable. This whole sphere of reality is there- 
fore both clear and absolute. 



CHAPTEE XXVI 

FOURTH FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE— {Continued) 

(riBST PBINCIPLES) 

Nothing originates without a cause. Now cau- 
sality is not an object of sense ; it is a truth of the 
reason, intuitively, immediately perceived. The 
mistake must not be made that we intuitively per- 
ceive what the particular cause of any and every 

120 



FOURTH FOKMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

event is ; that is not an implied truth, and may be 
discovered by sense or inferred in reasoning. To 
determine this we, in nature, appeal to science ; in 
jurisprudence, to testimony ; in medicine, to inves- 
tigation and experience ; in the traits of a nation 
to sociology, etc. In intuitive knowledge of cau- 
sality it is not the assigning of the operating force 
but the perceiving and knowing there is and must 
be cause whenever any event or change takes 
place. The notion of causality springs up spon- 
taneously, and as recognizing that which is neces- 
sary in a world of change and phenomena. No 
knowledge can be more certain than this, for it is 
absolute. 

This kind of knowledge is not the first we gain 
in the order of time, but it is necessary for all 
other forms of knowledge. We perceive change 
before we get the notion of cause of the change, 
and in order to get this notion of causality ; but 
when our attention is called to it we realize there 
could be no change without causality; that without 
space there could be no extended bodies ; without 
time no events ; without substance no properties. 
We find these metaphysical truths in connection 
with, and as essential to, all that we know through 
sense and reasoning. 

In this kind of knowledge there is immediate 
certainty. That which brings a storm on some 
particular day, and of a particular violence, is 
often but partially understood, if understood at 

121 



MAN-BUILDING 

all ; but that there were forces in operation to pro- 
duce the storm, and to make it just what it was, 
is known as an indisputable truth, and with un- 
clouded clearness. That the sun shines in the 
heavens, that there is a substance giving off light, 
we know, though there is much about this light- 
giving sphere of which we are in profound igno- 
rance. We know there cannot be redness without 
a substance that is red ; that there cannot be a 
bitter taste in the mouth without a cause of such 
taste. 

That there can be production without cause, 
properties without substance, bodies without space, 
and successive events without time, is unthinkable. 
We say, unthinkable, not as Kant maintains, be- 
cause of the limitation of our powers — a display of 
our incapacity — but unthinkable as violating the 
laws of knowledge, unthinkable because of the 
nature of things. To say that two and two may 
be five is unthinkable, not simply as mental inca- 
pacity to grasp it as true — and that in some other 
world where there is a higher order of intelligence, 
it may be seen to be true, is to state an impossibility. 
Two and two with every one makes four — not 
five — because in the nature of things it must be 
four ; even infinite power could not make it other 
than four, for infinite power could not make the 
absurd or impossible real. " Things that are equal 
to the same thing are equal to each other." " If 
equals be added to equals the sums must be equal," 

122 



FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

" A straight line is the shortest distance between 
any two points." These are axioms and they are 
self-evident, not because of the peculiar constitu- 
tion of our minds, but because of the absoluteness 
of the truths expressed, and being necessarily true 
the mind sees them to be true. 

There are then ultimate realities which we find 
and know with unmistakable certainty. They are 
what may be called metaphysical truths — not in- 
ferred principles — but the basis of all contingent 
realities, the philosophical groundwork of such 
realities. They are not determined by reasoning, 
but are essential to reasoning. They are logical 
postulates, not logical conclusions; and without 
them reasoning would start in mid-air and leave us 
in mid-air. 

Inferences in reasoning are largely probabilities 
accepted as truths, the opposite of which is not 
unthinkable though improbable. Laws rest on 
the basis of invariable agreement. When imifor- 
mities are observed they are suggestive of law, 
and when such uniformities are unbroken through 
a long series, they are regarded as establishing law. 
In this way, by induction, the laws of nature are 
determined. A single phenomenon never reveals 
a law ; but it does not require a series of succes- 
sive agreeing manifestations to establish the first 
principles of which we have been speaking. A 
single case is sufficient. It is not necessary that 
a. thousand apples shall be seen to fall to thQ 

123 



MAN-BUILDING 

ground to know that cause is at work ; one apple 
dropping from tlie tree is as conclusive of causality 
as if all the apples in the orchard fell to the earth. 
If a man is found dead by the wayside we know 
there was a cause of death, but what the cause was 
we may never discover. Science, not less than 
the convictions of uneducated people, is based on 
the fact and universal prevalence of cause in this 
world of change. 

Psychologically, that is, in the order of mental 
action, the concrete is apprehended before the 
abstract ; things before the principles on which 
things are based ; the object before the explanation 
of the object. And it is not held that intuitive 
truths are clearly perceived by every one, but 
that they are always perceived when the mind is 
intelligently turned to them. He who is mentally 
blind, or has his thoughts turned in the opposite 
direction, could not be expected to have these 
truths in his field of view. The knowledge of ulti- 
mate realities is not innate — born with the mind 
itself — but the powers by which such truths are di- 
rectly apprehended are innate. When the favor- 
able occasion arises they are not traced out and in- 
ferred, but seen as a necessity in the world of being. 

Not only does reason assert that every event 
must have a cause, but that the cause must be ade- 
quate to produce the event. Extensive results 
can be brought into existence only by power in 
which there is corresponding energy. 



FOUKTH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

CHAPTEE XXVII 

FOURTH FOEMS OF KNOWIuBBG^— {Continued) 

(FIRST CAUSE) 

The fourth forms of knowledge let us into a 
wonderful field of reality. The senses, we find, 
are restricted in their range of action. Our rea- 
soning powers make mistakes without number, 
and can never reach the broadest truths. Eealities 
may be either too simple to be proven or too high 
for any possible demonstration. 

Can God be found ? His throne cannot be 
reached by the ladder of thought. Pile all the 
heavens together and they do not equal Him. 
Take the universe as your major premise and it is 
too small and too feeble to get the Infinite as a 
logical sequence. But to say that the being of 
God cannot be proven is not to affirm that He 
cannot be found; is not to affirm that He can- 
not be known with clear and absolute certainty — 
a knowledge that satisfies the highest demands of 
intelligence. 

We find God as a necessity for nature, for all 
dependent being. However expansive the uni- 
verse may be it yet has its limits. Matter poss- 
esses bounds, the orbit of each heavenly body ha^ 

J25 



MAN-BUILDING 

definite extension, and tlie systems of worlds sweep 
on witliin restricted circuits. The forces operat- 
ing in nature are interdependent, no one thing has 
supreme unlimited domination. The constitution 
and movements of the universe have had a begin- 
ning. The marvellous history of things as given 
in the Bible begins with these words, " In the be- 
ginning God created the heavens and the earth." 
Nature, then, according to the scriptures, is a crea- 
tion, and time as measured by us had its begin- 
ning ; in other words the order to which we be- 
long began with the creation of these worlds. And 
science cannot be rationally interpreted without 
admitting the truth of this Bible record. 

Nature is progressive, it has passed through suc- 
cessive stages, each of which has had a beginning 
and an end. Commencing with the present to 
trace back through that which preceded, we find 
ourselves in the midst of a period of vegetable and 
animal life. This period had a beginning. There 
was a time when there was no life, as now known, 
on the earth. The crust of the earth was barren 
rock, with bodies of water having more or less 
definite boundaries, and above it all a dense 
aqueous cloud through which the rays of the sun 
could not penetrate. At an earlier period still the 
surface was a molten mass, the heat so intense 
that rocks could not form, and back beyond this 
that which constitutes the earth and all the stars 
of the heavens was in a nebulous or gaseous state, 

1.26 



FOURTH FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

These things science tells us. If the physical his- 
tory of nature has been progressive, going forward 
by steps or movements, passing from one stage 
into another, it must have had a beginning. We 
cannot divide the infinite into parts, there must be, 
in that which is divisible, a starting-point. 

But it has been suggested that the present order 
of nature is only one of an indefinite number of 
cycles ; that we do not find the beginning by go- 
ing back to nebulous matter as the first in the 
order to which we belong. Suppose this to be 
true, a thousand cycles, a million cycles which 
have run their course do not relieve the problem. 
If there have been a million of cycles there must 
have been the first cycle. You cannot have the 
second of anything without there being a first ; no 
more can you have the hundredth or millionth 
without a first. Lengthening the chain does not 
remove the necessity of a first link. And you can- 
not make a chain of an infinite number of links. 
There can be no such thing as an infinite regress 
of finite causes. Make the series as long as we 
may it must, in the nature of the case, have a be- 
ginning. 

We are then shut up to this in studying nature, 
to throw up the problem as beyond solution or 
postulate an Infinite uncaused Being as the Cre- 
ator of it all. For a conditioned there must be an 
unconditioned ; for a contingent there must be an 
absolute; for finite nature a self-existent cause, 

121 



MAN-BUILDmG 

The opposite of this is unthinkable. He who does 
not find God back of nature, and as the Author of 
nature, not only does violence to the laws of 
thought, but sets at naught that which is funda- 
mental to the most elementary principles of philos- 
ophy itself. A First Cause is implied in all sec- 
ondary causes. Than this nothing is more evident. 
It is a truth in metaphysics which cannot be ra- 
tionally disregarded. 

Another thought, Everything in nature points to 
intelligence in the cause. The universe was not 
blindly brought into existence. It answers all the 
demands of our reasoning powers, and if it satisfies 
reason it must itself be the embodiment of reason. 
The manifestation of final cause is seen everywhere 
in the material world. He is blind who does not 
see a supernatural purpose in all things and oper- 
ations that have made up the history of nature. 
Law conserving our well-being prevails all about 
us. Here we find an unlimited field of study for 
the development of the intellect ; a theatre for the 
operation of sociological forces ; an order of life 
for the strengthening of moral purposes under per- 
sonal responsibilities ; a condition of things call- 
ing for the discharge of duties ; a world in which 
humanity may be enriched by acts of kindness and 
mercy, and a grand destiny wrought out in the 
training of conscience and the ennobling of life. We 
find the thought of the inventor in the adaptation 
of the machine he has constructed to some specific 

128 



POUETH le^ORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 

end. The teleology of the arts enables us to pene- 
trate into the intellectual energies of the race. We 
know what man has planned to do by scrutinizing 
the forces he has put in operation. And we come 
to the very life of the Author of nature by consid- 
ering the realities and adjustments of these His 
works. May we not say that in these creations, 
as we study them, "we are thinking over after 
Him the thoughts that the Architect of nature has 
implanted in things." 

As to some things we may be in doubt ; as to 
His Being there can be no uncertainty. He is the 
Infinite, the Absolute, the Unconditioned, the 
Eternal, the First Cause. He is not unknowable, 
yet He is the incomprehensible. We find Him, 
but we cannot grasp Him. The infinite depths of 
His being we cannot fathom, but reason declares 
Him to be the creating life of all dependent real- 
ity. And we reach the highest range of thought 
in conceiving and knowing Him. We do and 
must hang everything on the will of the infinitely 
intelligent Creator. 



129 



MAK-BUILDING 

CHAPTEK XXVIII 
THE SCEPTRE OF THE HEART 

The definition of man that he is a rational ani- 
mal is incomplete. It is sufficiently discriminat- 
ing when he is considered solely in regard to his 
intellectual life, for in this, surely, there is a wide 
difference between him and the general animal 
kingdom. But it was intended that he should feel 
as well as know, and he would occupy a much lower 
position in the world of being than he now does, 
were his powers restricted to the capability of 
knowing. There has been a disposition to exalt 
his intellectual nature far above the sensibilities, 
making this the sole standard of rank. The word 
human, however, is shorn of half its significance 
when it excludes the heart. 

Feeling is a mental state characterized as pleas- 
urable or painful. It has special functions or 
offices in the body. As hunger, thirst, and taste, 
it impels to the supply of physical wants, and in 
the supply there is a feeling of satisfaction. The 
appetites operate through impulses thus awakened. 
In pain suffered there is warning of danger. But 
it is not our purpose just here to discuss questions 
relating specially to the body. 

What we term experience is made up very largely 

130 



THE SCEPTRE OF THE HEART 

of feelings. It begins in early childhood. When 
but a few months old the infant manifests pleasure 
or displeasure in its surroundings, in those things 
which come in contact with its life. The smile 
which plays upon its face tells of happiness ; the 
tears that flow speak of mental suffering. As the 
weeks pass by it is attracted by the novelty of the 
panorama of life. It soon comes to take an inter- 
est in that which is within its reach. It is not 
long before objects and experiences arrange them- 
selves in two classes, the agreeable and the dis- 
agreeable. From this time on the child is in the 
midst of contending forces which give him joy and 
sorrow. It is along this path he must travel, smil- 
ing and weeping, till the end of his earthly pil- 
grimage. 

So close to us are the sources of joy and sorrow, 
that we estimate life by the happiness or unhappi- 
ness it brings. Indeed with most people the end 
for which they plan and labor is happiness, or 
perhaps pleasure, which is on a lower plane. Even 
duty, nobility — often humanity — is kept at arm's 
length, for anticipated happiness is made to occupy 
the entire field. But this is true that it is either 
sunshine or clouds, depending on the pleasant or 
unpleasant experiences through which we pass. 

Nothing binds us so closely together as the 
feelings we share in common. The companionship 
of spirit is the delight of social life. Not common 
aims — for these sometimes make competition — but 

131 



MAN-BUILDING 

common enjoyments cement our affections. Con- 
versation flows smoothly, and the hours pass by all 
too quickly when each is interested in the other. 
The world is richer because of sympathy, and it is 
impoverished to the extent of indifference. Love 
unites, hatred severs. History is a heart problem. 
The father willingly toils for those he loves, but 
when the heart is cold the fireside is neglected. 
When patriotism glows on the altar of a nation's 
liberty, the country is shielded from the assaults 
of the enemy. Ambition is more than a -conviction 
of the judgment, it is a longing for perceived good. 
He strives for wealth whose heart is placed upon 
it. Scholarship is sought under the inspiration of 
desire, not simply from a correct interpretation or 
apprehension of its abstract worth. 

To make a grand success of life as the years roll 
on, the individual must have sensibilities that are 
acute and masterful. They must awaken the in- 
tellect and lead it onward to mighty deeds. He 
who rises to a lofty eminence in the work of bless- 
ing the world, puts his heart in the lead in his 
search for the good of humanity ; and he who 
plunges into evil, wrecking his life and ruining 
those who may follow, is led by the desires of his 
heart for that which is base and destructive. The 
church is the mightiest when she is in fullest sym- 
pathy with Christ. When great thoughts are im- 
passive, they are like lead which drops to the 
earth ; but when set on fire they burn through all 

132 



THE SCEPTEE OF THE HEAET 

opposition. In business, in politics, in the pro- 
fessions, the feelings hold the sceptre. A motive 
for any activity of life does not reside in the object 
which it is possible to obtain, nor in the simple 
conception of its value, but in our emotional ap- 
preciation of its value. All interests wait upon the 
feelings, not a step is taken until inspired by the 
feelings. We eagerly pursue that which attracts 
by the promise of happiness ; we flee from that 
which would cause us disquietude or pain. 

Our attention has been called to man's high or- 
der of intellectual being, and it is said that " it is 
the mind that makes the man." But mind is more 
than intellect. Powers are one thing, the use of 
powers quite another. Intellectual energies must 
be stimulated, and the stimulus does not reside in 
these energies but is supplied by the sensibilities. 
For progress in knowledge, discipline of faculties, 
and accumulating power of achievement the heart 
must supply inspiration. The world is to-day 
what the heart has made it to be, and its future 
history will be determined by the feelings which 
sway the life of individuals and nations. 



133 



MAN-BUILDING 

CHAPTEK XXIX 
FEELINGS DISCRIMINATED 

We have learned that sensations are feelings 
originating in and through the body, and they 
have been considered in connection with presenta- 
tive knowledge. But there is another class of 
feelings which take their rise in intellectual 
states and are the results of knowledge — not the 
medium of knowledge ; they are the impressions 
made on the sensibilities by knowledge itself. 
The roughness felt when the hand is passed over 
a jagged surface is a sensation ; the sorrow pro- 
duced by the tidings of the death of a friend is an 
emotion. 

Feelings which have a basis in intelligence — 
which we are now to consider— are generally called 
emotions, but these are sometimes subdivided, 
and designated passions^ emotions, and sentiments. 
With this classification, emotions occupy the 
middle ground, as medium in intensity, while 
passions are violent emotions, emotions which 
have passed beyond restraint, and sentiments are 
emotions of a mild type. Passions are the w^hirl- 
wind of feelings ; sentiments are a gentle breeze, 
while emotions is a word which stands for the 
general body of feelings, capable of passionate. 

134 



PEELINGS DISCRIMINATED 

excess, on the one hand, or a gentle flow on the 
other. 

A human being has an equipment of powers in 
the domain of feeling, not less than in the domain 
of knowing. On the sensibility side of his nature, 
life is generally spoken of as passive — it does not 
originate feeling, it is said, but is subject to it. It 
is true that there are limitations to the functions of 
the sensibilities ; they do not perform their work 
alone. Without the action of the intellect there is 
no joy, or sorrow ; these emotions come into exist- 
ence only as the knowledge is gained of certain 
conditions or facts. The intellect takes the lead. 
But emotions do not flow into the mind, they are 
produced by the mind. And they are not the 
product of the intellect which is the organ of cog- 
nition, nor of the will. The sole office of the will 
is to choose and execute. There must be powers 
which create feelings as they do not exist till the 
mind performs its work of producing them. 

Should we not stop and define feeling before 
proceeding any farther ? It is not easy to give a 
strict definition of feeling. A definition is idea- 
tional, and we cannot put feeling into ideas and 
make them the medium of its transmission to 
others, as words embody and carry thoughts. 
Feeling has a meaning to him who has experienced 
it, and the best we can do is to awaken a con- 
sciousness of such emotional experience. So pure- 
ly personal is it, with nothing of the cognitive in 

135 



MAN-BUILDING 

its nature, that we can only refer to it, we cannot 
analyze its content with words. 

And there are special difficulties in our way in 
studying feeling. To do this successfully we need 
carefully to examine it in all its grades. But when 
we begin to do this the feeling, in a measure, 
fades, our consciousness of it becomes dimmer ; for 
cognition is called into action at the sacrifice of 
the feeling we have begun to study — there is to 
some extent a passing from feeling to thinking. 
Feeling is in no degree ideational, though the sen- 
sibilities and intellect may co-operate ; but just so 
much of mental energy as is employed by the 
intellect cannot at the same time be employed by 
the sensibilities. The most that can be said of 
feeling is that it is the class of our mental experi- 
ences not included in cognitions and volitions ; it 
is the residuum when these two forms are extracted 
from all our possible mental experiences ; and it is 
the " subjective side of any modification whatever 
of consciousness." But though it will not in itself 
admit of scientific definition its nature is under- 
stood, and it is an object of intelligible discussion. 

It is interesting to observe that not only can 
feelings be discriminated by words, but they often 
have physical manifestations. Embarrassment 
causes the face to flush with blood, and fear drives 
the blood from the face, giving it the paleness of 
death. The countenance brightens as joy takes 
possession of the soul ; and in it sorrow is depicted 

136 



FEELINGS DISCEIMINATED 

as the heart is sad. Tears trickle down the cheeks 
and the facial muscles undergo a change when life 
is overwhelmed with grief. Anger tells its tale in 
the expression of the face, in the tone of the voice, 
and sometimes in the violent use of the muscles in 
personal assault. Excitement causes the heart to 
beat more quickly, the blood to flow more rapidly, 
and the breathing to be irregular. Fear quickens 
muscular action so that the individual will hasten 
to get out of danger ; but when fear becomes great 
it may paralyze the physical powers and make us 
helpless for personal escape or defence. Weari- 
ness gives way when excitement takes hold upon 
the nerves. The mother puts forth efforts for 
which a strong man is scarcely equal, to rescue 
her child from danger or death. Cases are fre- 
quent of death from fright. Great excitement has 
often stopped the beating of the heart. Some 
sudden intelligence — good or bad — has completely 
overcome vital action. Home-sickness may be- 
come a positive and dangerous disease, termina- 
ting in death. The insane, under intense excite- 
ment, and unrestrained by a sense of right or 
regard for legitimate results, will often concentrate 
far more strength in the muscles for violent action 
than can be done by the person of a sound mind 
holding the feelings in check. The curl of the lip 
portrays scorn ; the pouting of the lips, contempt ; 
the heaving of the breast, agitation, and the smile, 
gratification. The placid face shows a quiet spirit, 

137 



MAN-BUILDING 

but when the heart is wrought into a fury the 
inner struggle writes its story on the brow. He 
who is angry finds it difficult to restrain the blow, 
but love impels the hand to stretch forth in acts 
of beneficence. Who can keep the features of the 
face immovable in the presence of a ludicrous 
event ? At times laughter is irrepressible ; at 
other times weeping cannot be restrained. Hope 
prolongs life, despair shortens it. Thus ifc is seen 
that feeling reveals itself through the physiologi- 
cal phenomena and controls physiological activi- 
ties. 

On the obverse side of this subject it is im- 
portant to understand the effect of the body on the 
feelings. With a child in a state of health there 
is a physical impulse to action. Boyhood is buoy- 
ant, the nerves are thoroughly charged with vitality, 
and from this comes forth an inclination toward 
movement, and in the bodily action there is enjoy- 
ment. This enjoyment is not found simply in the 
products created, for in most cases nothing is con- 
structed of value, but it is found in the doing it- 
self. Disease depresses the spirits even when no 
serious results are anticipated. A dyspeptic stom- 
ache produces irritability. A sluggish liver makes 
a man down-hearted. Alcohol in stimulating the 
brain not only acts upon the reason but awakens 
all sorts of emotions. The exercise in sport is 
agreeable without taking into account the pleasure 
of winning. Over-eating deadens the sensibilities. 
138 



FEELINGS DISCKIMINATED 

Indeed, physical habits hold our emotional nature 
in their grasp. The appetites take hold upon the 
soul and give a trend to its experiences. 

While desires have an emotional element they 
often sustain relations to the body. They may be 
called craving feelings in contrast with affections 
which are giving feelings, as some writers dis- 
tinguish them. Desires reach over to an object, 
their end being the drawing to one's self. When 
the desires have their base in the physical being 
they are called appetites. But desires may be 
what is called mental — to satisfy the mental, as for 
knowledge, moral good, etc. "Affection is inclina- 
tion toward others, disposing us to impart from 
our own resources what may influence them for 
good or ill. Desires absorb, affections give out. 
Desires invariably seek what is accounted a per- 
sonal gain." But affections are of two classes, 
designated benevolent and malevolent. Benevolent 
affections are satisfied only by the impartation of 
good; malevolent affections by the impartation 
of evil. Friendship and love show forth the be- 
nevolent, revenge the malevolent. Though con- 
trasted with desires they partake, in part, of their 
nature. He who has an affection for another de- 
sires his good. Desires and affections are impulses 
to action. In the economy of life they serve this 
purpose. For the doing, impulses must exist to 
originate action and make it continuous. 



139 



MAN-BUILDING 

CHAPTEE XXX 

EQUIPMENT OF FEELINGS 

As feelings have a substantial basis in the 
mental life, as they serve a variety of purposes 
and indicate the special or general condition of 
the mind, also entering into and revealing char- 
acter, it is well to give them a somewhat careful 
analysis. And especially is this desirable as they 
more or less modify intellectual states and reveal 
and perpetuate themselves in executive acts. Per- 
haps as instructive a classification as can be made 
is to consider them in their connection with the 
special objects to which they relate, or in which 
they manifest themselves. On this principle we 
state the following classes : 

1. Egoistic Emotions. 

2. Altruistic Emotions. 

3. Intellectual Emotions. 
4 ^Esthetic Emotions. 

5. Moral Emotions. 

Egoistic emotions have their end in self, in con- 
nection with self-appreciation or personal desires, 
ambitions, etc. — in business, in the pursuit of 
scholarship, in the striving for position, in the love 
of fame. On the better side they show themselves 
in the satisfaction of duty performed ; in feelings 

140 



EQUIPMENT OF FEELINGS 

of esteem based on the recognition of a right 
and worthy life ; in acts of unselfish benevolence. 
Then there are unworthy egoistic emotions, such 
as pride, vanity, love of approbation, jealousy, 
emotions lying at the basis of haughtiness, of self- 
conceit, of pride of place and a pride of life. 
Situated as almost every human being is, depend- 
ing on himself, it is natural, indeed, inevitable, 
that there shall be emotions of a personal char- 
acter, many of which, if not excessive, cannot be 
condemned, and some of them are positively good. 
It is God's plan that man shall be industrious and 
create capital. The world needs capital for the 
support of life, for human progress, for the work- 
ing out of a grand destiny. To desire to accu- 
mulate property is not in itself wrong, it is in 
harmony with a divine purpose ; but to love money, 
to possess a spirit selfishly to hoard it is base and 
productive of harm. The appreciation of, and de- 
sire for, an education that the life may be stronger, 
that more of good may enter into our being is 
surely not unworthy. It is largely through mental 
culture and an extension of knowledge that the 
race is to fulfil its mission. We can scarcely do a 
better thing for a young man than to stir within 
him a thirst for knowledge. To understand God's 
universe ; to see what good and evil history has 
wrought out ; to become familiar with great themes 
of thought; to be able to fathom the world in 
which we live, is noble and desirable. But to be 

141 



MAN-BUILDING 

vain over one's scholarship is to give an unfit ap- 
preciation to one's life. To be gratified by evi- 
dences of public favor is not necessarily wrong. 
The boy who says, " I don't care what people say 
about me," is standing on dangerous ground; he is 
likely to plunge into vice or squander his days in 
ignoble pursuits. It was not intended that per- 
sonal considerations should be excluded from our 
lives, but that they should be lifted up above the 
plane of selfishness which disregards the interests 
of others. 

Altruistic emotions are such as have their object 
or end in others. That in much of our experience 
these emotions should make their appearance 
would naturally be expected from our social nature 
and relations. We begin life in the family, amid 
the varied interests, dependencies, duties, and en- 
joyments of the home ; we pass up through child- 
hood and youth in association with the young; 
manhood and womanhood bring responsibilities 
and needs in a world of men and women. We are 
not alone, we are never independent and without 
duties to discharge. To attempt to live without 
taking others into account would be to contract our 
privileges and restrict our powers to our own great 
harm, as well as in disregard of the rights of the 
public. 

There are many forms of altruistic feelings 
which grow out of our community life. Love 
starts in the home — of the parent for the child, 

142 



EQUIPMENT OF FEELINGS 

and the child for the parent — each interested in 
the other, and ready to make sacrifices for the 
other. Sympathy is a sharing in the feelings of 
another, "rejoicing with them that rejoice, and 
weeping with them that weep " — a delight felt in 
their happiness or good fortune, and a partaking 
of their sorrows. Pity is commiseration for an- 
other in view of his weakness or misfortune. In- 
dignation is a feeling aroused by the base, 
unworthy, or perhaps cruel act of another. Re- 
venge is a spirit of retaliation which prompts the 
doing of harm to the one who has wronged us, a 
malignant wishing of evil. This is often excessive, 
far beyond the measure of the offence. Altruistic 
feelings may thus show a noble or base spirit 
depending on the character of the end wished. 

Intellectual emotions are not cognitions, but 
emotions awakened by cognitions. There is a sat- 
isfaction in every intellectual achievement. In 
knowledge itself there is not only an understand- 
ing of things, but a pleasurable state of mind in 
the act of understanding, and a satisfaction which 
knowledge produces having its type in the specific 
character of the knowledge itself. To learn, to 
intellectually master, is to triumph, and a feeling 
of victory is always grateful. Truth is more to us 
than a right conception, it brings delight. The 
character of the pleasure experienced is deter- 
mined, in its quality, by the character of the truth 
reached. The solving of a problem in algebra 

143 



MAN-BUILDING 

gives feelings of a different character and coloring 
from the grasping of a problem in physical magni- 
tudes. Conceptions of those things which are 
vast and comprehensive cany vrith them feelings 
of the sublime. In these statements we speak of 
feelings which accompany and reside in the con- 
ceptions, not which flow from reflections on the 
purpose to which the knowledge may be put. The 
pleasure in knowledge and intellectual activity 
contributes an important element in mental work, 
making it attractive, and supplying inspiration out 
of which success is secured. 

Esthetic emotions spring from the perception of 
the harmonies of things. In the domain of the 
physical they are experienced in the views we get 
in painting, in sculpture, in the beautiful land- 
scape, etc. Then we speak of the beautiful in 
character, which is a harmony of thought, of pur- 
pose, of habits, a conformity to intellectual and 
moral ideals. We are so constituted that the per- 
ception of harmonies stirs agreeable emotions 
which are sui generis, placid and restful. 

Moral feelings belong to our moral nature. They 
depend on moral considerations and the activity of 
the moral powers. Sin, wrong-doing of any kind, 
is accompanied by a feeling of demerit, not simply 
a judgment of demerit. There is shame, remorse, 
perhaps contrition, at least disquiet, in which 
there is self-reproach, a feeling of debasement. 
But with right acts there is a feeling — as well as a 

144 



TEAIKING OF THE FEELINGS 

judgment— of rightness, emotions based on appro- 
val of deeds done and which attach themselves to 
such approval. The whole sphere of the emotions 
of a righteous man differs radically from the feel- 
ings experienced by a man of base thoughts and 
degraded life. 

Such is man in his emotional susceptibilities. 
This discussion might be greatly extended if called 
for by the purpose of this treatise, but enough has 
been stated to show how important to each of us 
is the life of the feelings as appearing in the varied 
forms of actionof our emotional nature. 



CHAPTEK XXXI 

CONTROL AND TRAINING OF THE FEELINGS 

It is evident the feelings should not be in the 
mastery. The sceptre cannot safely be put in 
their hands. They render an important service in 
a subordinate capacity ; it may be well at times to 
listen to their voice, but not to put them on the 
throne of power. And the feelings are not very 
obedient subjects. They do not quickly respond 
to the orders issued. They are responsive to con- 
ditions, but are not directly swayed by commands. 
We have said that the mind is active in feeling, 
that in all emotional experience feeling appears as 

145 



MAK-BUILDIKG 

a product of intellectual activity. Yet, fundament- 
ally, feeling is the passive side of our nature. It 
follows, it does not take the lead ; it is dependent 
on other states. And while this is true it cannot 
be summoned into existence nor directly put out 
of existence. The will cannot arouse hate or love ; 
it cannot call forth feelings of beauty or sublimity ; 
it cannot stir within us sympathy or pity, hope or 
despair. The emotional life must be reached and 
governed through other channels of our nature. 

Our feeling is along the lines of our thinking. 
There can be no feelings as to those things of 
which we have no knowledge, nor to which the at- 
tention is not turned. The intellect leads, it opens 
to us a domain for feeling. The feelings of the 
scholar are unlike those of the illiterate man ; those 
of the lawyer unlike those of the physician ; of the 
aged unlike those of the youth. He who has fixed 
his eye on Congress and thinks of nothing else 
than the means to be employed to realize his am- 
bition, leads emotionally a life widely in contrast 
with that of the man who toils from morning till 
night for the sole purpose of getting bread for his 
family. 

To change the trend of our emotions we must 
change the trend of our thoughts. He who enters 
into a new world of intellectual activity, finds a 
new world for the feelings. It will be impossible 
to keep the stains of pollution from the soul of that 
boy unless you can change his reading from the 

146 



TEAINING OF THE FEELINGS 

foul novels he is devouring, or cause his imagina- 
tion to be fed from other scenes than those sup- 
plied by the ribald song to which he is listening. 
The imagery of the intellect determines the emo- 
tional life. While therefore we cannot directly 
summon up feelings of any class, we can bring 
them into existence by the action of the intellect- 
ual powers. 

In this is involved also the exercise of the will. 
The will can control the feelings through the intel- 
lect. The intellect has ears by which it can hear 
the order the will issues, but the feelings are deaf. 
Emotions know nothing about attention, the intel- 
lect only can take cognizance of any reality. By 
changing the attention, by turning the mental gaze 
from one class of objects to another, the feelings 
the former had awakened fade away, giving place 
to that which is appropriate to the new mental 
condition. Thus the feelings do not come and go 
without our power to control them. For them 
there is a personal responsibility. Contamination 
is in the heart, but it enters through the intellect 
which is so largely subject to the will. The child 
gets a right start when the home is pure ; when 
wholesome reading is brought into the family 
circle ; when school associations are moral ; when 
his steps are not turned toward vile haunts and 
his education is not gained on the street. For a 
clean, upright life, right associations are almost 
omnipotent, 

147 



MAN-BUILDINa 

While the nature of the emotions depends on 
the kind of subjects which engage our attention, 
these emotions may be made to be more or less 
pervasive and intense. We may surrender our- 
selves to them, stimulate them, and make them 
practically our guide ; or we may hold them in 
check. There is such a thing as emotional habits 
produced by constant emotional indulgence or 
supremacy. " The rolling of sin as a sweet morse] 
under the tongue," produces a permanency of sin- 
ful delight. Character has three constituent ele- 
ments — principles, modes of life, and spirit of life. 
The principles are the intellectual foundation, and 
the mode of life gives rise to the spirit of the life ; 
and when this is continuously in one direction it 
becomes nearly irresistible. That which is needed 
is that a habit of right emotional living shall be- 
come firmly established — to love that which is 
pure, to hate that which is evil ; to rejoice in the 
good fortune of others; to sympathize with the 
afflicted ; to delight in the triumph of right ; to be 
gratified when virtue is in the ascendant. This is 
gained by the exercise of these emotions in con- 
nection with correct views to stimulate correspond- 
ing feelings. 

Repetition in the domain of feeling is as potent 
as in the domain of thought. We may cultivate 
that which is the better, and repress, by discard- 
ing, that which is the worse. Moral stability is 
not purely of principle ; in it there is a habit of 

148 



. TEAINING OF THE FEELINGS 

right feeling, the kind of emotions that are allowed 
to come regularly into the life. There is less dan- 
ger of religious deflection in mature years than 
in youth if there has been a consistent religious 
experience, because of established habits of feeling 
as well as of thinking. 

He who is wise does not allow his thoughts to 
carry him into dangerous fields of enjoyment, but 
stimulates an emotional interest in that which is 
pure and noble. The feelings are the " open ses- 
ame" into the great world of activity, whether 
good or evil. To lead a boy to enter a life of 
scholarship you must interest him in the themes 
of study. To touch the spring of industries you 
must interest the heart. To secure obedient ser- 
vice to the Supreme Being, the feelings must be 
aroused. The engine that propels the life along 
the road of virtue or vice, toward that which is 
noble or base, is fired by the feelings. Intellect 
does her work as the emotions arouse these powers, 
and the will issues her commands as the feelings 
prompt. The leverage in all movements is the 
emotions. 

To educate the feelings we must employ them, 
we must guide them into right channels ; we must, 
through the intellect, keep them in harmony with a 
correct judgment, with inspiring views, and noble 
aims. 



149 



MAN-BUILDlKa 

CHAPTEE XXXII 
INVOLUNTARY ACTIVITIES 

To will is to put forth some deliberative act 
with an end in view. As preliminary to the dis- 
cussion of this power and function of mind it is well 
to look at some primary forces of life. All beings 
in the animal world come into existence with a 
tendency toward action. There are what are 
called impulses which " are activities which arise 
from some feelings of want." They are not forced 
into existence by something which is external, 
like sensations which come as a result of outward 
impressions on the nerves, but they spring up 
with the life from some need. They are funda- 
mental psychical states— not developed conditions. 
They are the primary activities of life, inner motor 
forces or promptings, as, for instance, for individ- 
ual defence, for seeking nutrition, for muscular 
action, for perception of surrounding objects, for 
imitation of others, etc. They are initiating en- 
ergies in the animal system. 

Instinct, though impulsive, is something more 
than impulse ; it is not a random doing but a do- 
ing in which there is a " purposeful and seemingly 
intelligent character of resulting movements." It 
is a capability of producing definite and uniform 

150 



INVOLUNTAEY ACTIVITIES 

results which serve some special purpose. It ac- 
complishes what, in a rational being we would 
call the work of, or creation by, ideas, and which 
would require consummate skill to execute. We 
do not suppose the honey-bee knows anything 
about the principles of geometry, yet the cells he 
constructs as a receptacle for the honey are of the 
only form to give the greatest strength with econ- 
omy of space. The honey-comb is a marvel of prac- 
tical engineering. Such cells are what the honey- 
bee needs, and just these works he instinctively 
produces, and nothing foreign thereto. Gathering 
honey he thus stores it away for future use, and 
this without any preparatory training. All of the 
same species of birds build their nests on the same 
plan and in corresponding positions, in which 
their wants are best subserved ; the young, with- 
out experience, executing the work with no less 
skill than their parents. The beaver knows when, 
where, and how to build his dam, and never makes 
a mistake. 

Now, instinct is not a knowledge of principles in 
science, philosophy, or the arts ; it is not intelli- 
gence as to the use of the works constructed or the 
reason for the special mode employed; there is 
not in it a solution of the problem, why ? but simply 
a feeling, or impelling force, to do what is done. 
There is " a purpose without foresight of end." In- 
stinct is blind action toward some end. When we 
say instinct is blind we mean that the animal does 

151 



MAN-BUILDING 

not have an intelligent purpose in performing the 
act to accomplish an end perceived to be desir- 
able. Yet there is an intelligent purpose, but it 
is in the Divine plan, and the animal conforms to 
the plan without knowing anything about it. The 
purpose is definite and the ends wrought out 
certain, but the animal is only a machine working 
to the end simply under organic feeling, not by the 
light of intelligence. 

Instinct has relation to species. One species has 
one form of instinct, another some other form, 
evidently adapted to its special needs. This is a 
beneficent provision of Providence. And as the 
care for the young is limited, the instinct is not 
developed by experience or culture, but is in full 
force at birth. The period of life of a large part 
of the animal kingdom is brief as compared with 
that of the human being, and therefore it could 
not wait for special training to prepare for gain- 
ing a livelihood ; hence it receives at first a full 
equipment of powers to do its work. Also in the 
nature of instinct we see that only a limited prog- 
ress in knowledge is possible. Civilization is a 
word that can never be applied to the general 
animal world. 

Intelligence is in the inverse ratio of instinct. 
Man has much less need of instinct than the ani- 
mal. He has been provided with only low forms 
of it because in the high sphere he is capable of 
reaching he will not need it, and it would operate 

152 



INVOLUNTAKY ACTIVITIES 

as a drawback. Could he gain skill without study 
ignorance would everywhere prevail, and indolence 
would secure a perpetual degradation of life. No 
being can be great without making himself great. 
He is therefore forced to depend on his own re- 
sources so that there may be a continuous develop- 
ment of his powers. 

But man is not wholly a being of will ; not 
all his activities, as we have found, are put forth 
and guided by choice. In his physical nature he 
is largely subject to that which is involuntary. 
Life would be impossible were not the action of 
the heart involuntary, and did not the breathing 
go forward without thought or supervision. Every- 
thing is arranged for the digestion of food, proper 
assimilation of nutrition and the rejection of that 
which would be hurtful, and all this beyond our 
dictation or observation. There would be great 
personal danger in trusting entirely to our judg- 
ment in partaking of food, so that the system 
makes its demand through implanted and awak- 
ened appetites. Were it necessary consciously to 
direct every step we take in walking we could do 
nothing else. This may be said to be semi-in- 
stinctive, a uniform tendency through acquired 
habit. Physical training developed the capability 
of walking which settled down into a habit regu- 
lating the gait. This holds true in most lines of 
action, as in penmanship, the playing on musical 
instruments, and the mechanical skill of the af- 

153 



MAN-BUILDING 

tisan. Developed mental tendencies may be put 
in the same class. The will does not take minute 
— only general — supervision. Movements become 
largely automatic. 

However great the possibility of our mental 
life ; however far-reaching the ends for which we 
labor; however comprehensive the plans formed 
and lofty our aims, in that which is immediate, in 
the labor of the successive hours the involuntary 
provides what is necessary to the steady, safe, and 
effective movements of the life. Impulses and in- 
stincts reach back into the domain of feeling, on 
the one hand, and, on the other, to the sphere of 
the will, the higher form of purposeful and intelli- 
gent life. They thus fill a very important place in 
our being. 



CHAPTER XXXIII 

WILL DEFINED 

" Will is the power of choice." 
" Will is the power of alternate choice." 
" Will is the power of self-determination." 
These definitions vary in phraseology, but are 
one in meaning. In the power of choice there is 
necessarily alternation. There cannot be choice 
when there is only one possible course to pursue. 
To do under constraint is not to choose, but to be 
154 



NATUKE OF WILL 

forced. To say, therefore, that will is the power 
of choice, is to say that it is the power of alternate 
choice. In putting forth a choice the power of 
control does not extend beyond one's self ; it has 
nothing directly to do with the capability of act- 
ing on others. In some cases such action may fol- 
low, but to determine to act on others, and then to 
put forth the effort to act on them, are quite dis- 
tinct. Such action may be the outcome, but this 
is not a part of the original determination. Often 
after the choice is made, there may be inability to 
execute the choice. 

To call will the power of self-determination is to 
assert the ability of personal control, the ability to 
originate personal acts and regulate our own lives. 
It is saying that we are not the sport of that which 
is external to ourselves ; and it is also putting will 
at the head of our mental powers with an explicit 
office to direct the intellect in its thinking and to 
control the life, whatever may be the feelings ex- 
perienced. Conceptions, good or bad, do not hold 
us in their grasp ; and it is not the office of emo- 
tions to sweep us onward without any power of re- 
sistance, as the block of wood is carried forward by 
the flowing stream. There is a power within us, 
which is not that of cognition or of feeling, that 
directs us in our movements. This is what we 
mean when we say that the will — not any other 
faculty — is the power of self-determination, the 
determining energy of self. The mind is capable 

155 



MAN-BUILDma 

of self-mastery ; this is will or personal govern- 
ment. As Calderwood says, "The name will is 
used to indicate a directing, determining, or gov- 
erning power belonging to intelligent life — a con- 
trol over the varied activities within consciousness. 
Whatever may be the influence of will over our 
own organism, or more widely still, out upon the 
field of external relations and activities, the philos- 
ophy of control is concerned with the activities 
belonging to the inner life of the rational agent." 

Whedon's definition of will that " it is the power 
of the soul by which it is the conscious author of 
an intentional act " is both broad in its sweep, and 
restricted to its direct office and work. It recog- 
nizes the intellect — in consciousness and intention 
— and makes will the regnant power of the soul. 
The will cannot act when the mind is in a state of 
unconsciousness ; and it cannot act unless the 
mind sees some desirable or needed end to be 
reached. It does not act without a reason, and it 
cannot have a purpose without intelligence. 

Writers have sometimes merged will and desire 
into one mental act, with only this distinction, that 
will is predominating desires, called will when the 
desires issue in acts. But to issue in acts some- 
thing more than a craving is needed. There must 
be a command, a determination, an executive deci- 
sion which in itself is unlike the feeling of craving, 
though naturally following it. But the will may 
even decide against the desires under some coun- 

150 



NATUEE OF WILL 

teracting feeling, such as prudence, a sense of 
right, a conviction of duty. As, for instance, a 
person may have an intense desire to visit the 
home of his childhood, even appointing the time 
for his departure ; but finding it will work harm to 
some friend, he at last abandons the contemplated 
journey with feelings of great disappointment. It 
is often a bitter trial to decide against our inclina- 
tions, yet it is frequently done. The path of duty 
is often travelled with much of sorrow and many 
sacrifices, with the crucifying of desires. Desires 
solicit the will, but they do not always secure its 
decisions. Other feelings arise which, though less 
clamorous, make a more righteous showing, and win 
in the contest. In cases without number desires 
are made to yield, not simply by external force, 
but to voluntary choice. It is the safeguard of the 
individual and society that the will is something 
more than desires, that we can and do rise above 
personal preferences, curbing appetite, restraining 
longings, acting according to reason under princi- 
ples of right and for the well-being of others. 

We must not be understood as saying that will 
is independent of feeling, that it puts forth voli- 
tions in disregard of feeling and in its absence, but 
that it chooses the interests with reference to 
which it will issue its orders. There are impulses 
almost infinite in kind and number which belong 
to our experience, and the will makes a decision as 
to which shall be regarded. By none of these im- 

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MAN-BUILDING 

pulses are we driven. Life is constructed on the 
plan that among them and over them all the wiU 
shall sway the sceptre of authority. 

We must again caution the young reader against 
the fallacy of supposing the soul to be in any sense 
or degree divided into parts when he sees the 
words intellect, sensibilities, and will. The soul 
itself, we have before said, is an absolute unit cap- 
able of three different kinds of action — of knowing, 
feeling, and willing. These activities may be em- 
ployed successively or co-ordinately. The mind 
that sees also feels and wills, and at any moment 
it may will because of its feelings and in regard to 
that which it knows. Neither one of these activ- 
ities is ever wholly in a state of isolation. 



CHAPTER XXXIV 

DEPENDENCE OF WILL 

In the general division of mental powers we al- 
ways give will the third place. In their enumera- 
tion we begin with intellect, follow this with sen- 
sibilities, and mention will the last. This is not 
accidental or arbitrary, but indicates a relation. 
We must know in order to feel, and feeling pre- 
cedes willing. By virtue of powers of perception 
and discrimination we gain knowledge ; the knowl- 

158 



DEPENDENCE OF WILL 

e Jge acquired awakens the sensibilities, pleasantly 
or unpleasantly affecting us, creating desires, aver- 
sions, or other forms of feeling ; and under a con- 
sciousness of ability to secure good or escape 
apprehended evil a resolution is formed on the 
basis of such intelligence and the emotions that 
are aroused. 

Mental action cannot begin with volitions. We 
cannot will until there is something before the 
mind to will about. There may be impulsive ac- 
tivities of the life, but not choosing. To choose 
we must apprehend realities and perceive values. 
In the order of appearing, volitions are a sequence 
to knowledge, that is, knowledge must go before. 
Thus there must be a world of reality discovered 
by the mind as a prerequisite to the action of the 
will. When therefore we speak of the independ- 
ence or freedom of the will, as we sometimes ex- 
press it, we do not mean that it is out of relation 
with everything else; we do not mean that its 
office is initiative in an ultimate sense, that it 
needs nothing precedent in order to perform its 
work. It must have something to act upon, an 
equipment of knowledge or nothing can be done. 

In ordaining life the Supreme Being has put us 
in the midst of innumerable objects which make 
up the material world; surrounded us with laws 
and forces to which we are subject; established 
relations between us and other human beings, as 
well as nature within which we dwell. We are 

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MAN-BUILDING 

never outside of these relations, and we cannot get 
away from them if we would. Whatever volitions 
are put forth are confined within this sphere of be- 
ing ; the will cannot transcend these limits. This 
is the first limitation. The second, more restricted, 
limitation is the scope of actual knowledge, or in- 
tellectual discerning, within this broad sphere. 
That of which we have no knowledge cannot be an 
object of will. The third limitation is found at 
the established boundary of our powers. If the 
object be out of our reach, if it cannot be obtained, 
it is beyond the sphere of our volitions. We can- 
not will the impossible. No one goes seriously to 
work on an air-castle. The child when he comes 
actually to know that the moon is more than two 
hundred thousand miles away does not attempt to 
grasp it with his hands. A man may will to en- 
deavor to become president of the United States, 
but he cannot will — even after he has received the 
Domination — to be president. He may secure the 
coveted position as the result of his purpose to 
employ every possible means to obtain it. No one 
can will not to die, but he can will to resist the ap- 
proach of death, and thus perhaps prolong his life. 
The fourth limitation is found in needed excitation 
of the sensibilities. Knowledge which leaves the 
mind in a state of complete indifference provides 
no occasion for will action. If that which is seen 
has no significance for us or for others — not an ob- 
ject of desire or aversion, not conceived of as a 

160 



DEPENDENCE OF WILL 

benefit or harm to us — the will is not solicited, 
there is no reason for its action. 

The fifth limitation appears in the nature of the 
will itself. It does not directly achieve results, 
but calls other powers into action for such achieve- 
ment. It cannot create scholarship, but it can set 
the intellect at work to gain it. It cannot lift a 
weight from the ground, but it can stimulate the 
muscles to perform the needed task. It is true it 
sits on the throne and the other faculties of the 
mind are its subjects. It is its office to issue com- 
mands, and obedience follows. Yet its monarchy 
is not absolute but limited. It cannot frame de- 
crees without the aid of the intellect. It does not 
possess wisdom in itself. It turns to the faculty of 
cognition for enlightenment and to the sensibilities 
for solicitation or incitement, as a preparation for 
its work. It is a dependent ruler. It has ministers 
of state with which it cannot dispense. Should 
the intellect withdraw its teachings and the sensi- 
bilities become deadened the will would be power- 
less, its kingdom would perish. 

He who says that he never changes, that the 
volitions of yesterday answer for to-day, proclaims 
his folly. If intelligence were a fixed quantity as 
a result of omniscience, then volitions might be in- 
fallible. But the most learned are relatively igno- 
rant, and progressive intelligence should furnish 
ample reason — in more enlightened views — for 
new and more rational volitions. 

161 



MAN-BUILDIJSTG 
CHAPTEE XXXV 

MOTIVES 

Motive is a word of Latin origin {movere, to 
move). In the domain of human activity we use 
the term to express the cause of, or reason for, a 
voluntary act. As we grow up from infancy to 
years of observation and knowledge, we find our- 
selves surrounded by objects varying in their nat- 
ure, possessing unlike qualities, adapted to differ- 
ent interests of our being, or capable of doing us 
harm in a variety of ways. We find also that 
what we need most has not been prepared for our 
use, and can be gained only by personal effort. It 
soon becomes apparent that the field of effort does 
not belong to us alone, that there is a strife of 
competition which limits our opportunities, calling 
for the exercise of thoughtfulness and wisdom in 
our movements. In an important sense we make 
the world in which we live. That which is most 
valuable we do not inherit; it cannot be be- 
queathed to us, it must be wrought out by us. 
The widest distinctions in the lives of different in- 
dividuals are not forced upon them, they are not 
the result of conditions beyond their control, but 
of the course they choose to pursue. 

Among the many things it is possible to do- 

162 



MOTIVES 

which shall be done ? A selection must be made. 
One form of good may be secured by taking one 
course, some other form by taking another course. 
If it be the desire to make money, how can the end 
most certainly be reached, by entering what line 
of business, by adopting what method in business ? 
A thousand questions demand an answer. Life is 
an intellectual inquisition — what, how, when, to 
what extent, etc? This inquisitional movement 
runs through all business, the professions, educa- 
tion, politics, social life, ethics, and religious in- 
terests and obligations. And the outcome depends 
on the motives by which we are influenced, to 
which we yield. 

A motive is a perceived appreciated good, the 
end for which a thing is done. It is that which 
we have in view in performing any act, the reason 
for the doing, that which leads to the choice made. 
When there is no motive, there can be no choice. 
In the absence of an end, or when there is an utter 
indifference to the end, the mind is not led to put 
forth any action. In a motive there is both an in- 
tellectual and emotional element. But by affirm- 
ing an emotional element we do not mean that the 
sensibilities must be greatly agitated ; they are 
impressed sometimes in the direction of prudence, 
or right, or duty, or of well-wishing for others, but 
not necessarily strongly excited. It is the nature 
of all knowledge to be accompanied by some form 
of feeling, though it may be so placid as almost to 

163 



MAK-BUILDING 

escape notice. That which is desirable or worthy 
not only secures a favorable judgment but a favor- 
able feeling also. 

What is the exact relation of motives to the 
will ? We have said there can be no choice with- 
out a motive, and that the choice must be in the 
direction of some motive. But motives are often 
antagonistic, they stand opposite to each other — 
to do this or the reverse of this, to do this or not to 
do it. There are always before us opposing or di- 
verging motives. Some writers tell us that in the 
midst of the conflict the will is governed by the 
strongest motive. Is this anything more than say- 
ing that the motive that prevails is the motive that 
does prevail ? That of course would be tautology 
and could not be disputed. Or is it meant that 
motives govern the will, that the motive which 
prevails does prevail because in itself it is stronger 
than any other motive, and hence the wdll is over- 
borne by it ? In other words, that the will is not 
free, and is swayed by motives according to their 
strength, not its strength or choice? This last 
position we cannot accept. The motive is the oc- 
casion of the volitions put forth, a reason for the 
mind choosing to put forth such volitions, but not 
a compelling force. The power is in the will, not 
in the motive. The motive solicits, the will ac- 
cepts or rejects the solicitation. 

That the power is in the will is evident when it 
is noted that the will can make or modify motives, 

164 



MOTIVES 

causing them to be more or less prominent, more 
or less attractive, more or less weighty. The mind 
can turn the attention on a motive, study it, unfold 
its value, increase its significance, and, in doing 
this, neglect the opposite, which thereby fades 
from view, diminishes in its influence, losing much 
of its soliciting power. We exalt the one, we de- 
press the other. Now this we are constantly 
doing. We say, " I will look into this thing. It 
seems to have decided merit, but my opinion may 
change on closer examination." 

In everything relating to the operation of the 
mind we appeal to consciousness. In conscious- 
ness we perceive what the mind is doing, and the 
causes which operate. We discover whether the 
act is the result of a choice or the consequence of 
a force applied ; whether we really follow an in- 
vitation or are driven. And there is a universal 
conviction of freedom in the movement of our 
lives. If the will is not free we take credit to 
ourselves when we should not, and condemn our- 
selves without reason ; there can be no ground 
for praise or blame, there is no such thing as merit 
or demerit, right or wrong, virtue or vice. The 
whole attitude of the public toward the supposed 
character of deeds done would thus be based on a 
radical misconception of their import. Jurispru- 
dence proceeds on the supposition and belief that 
the will is free. Governments everywhere recog- 
nize this, and rewards and punishments would be 

165 



MAN-BUILDING 

worse than a senseless play if this were not so. 
This, then, is the conclusion we reach from the 
study of the mind — in the light of consciousness — 
that the motive solicits, it does not force ; it makes 
a bid, it does not issue a command. And we may 
add that we are wise or unwise, according to the 
class of motives to which we listen and whose 
solicitations we regard. 



CHAPTEE XXXVI 

VOLITIONS ARE CAUSED 

In affirming that will is self-active, do we exclude 
cause ? In saying that knowledge does not create 
choice; that motives, compounded of intellectual 
and emotional elements, do not bring resolutions 
into existence ; in saying that desires or any other 
form of feeling do not compel will-action, are we 
putting the will outside of the field of causality ? 

The stone lies unchanged in its position on the 
ground till some force is applied for its removal. 
This applied force is a cause of the change. The 
ball would never leave the cannon's mouth without 
a cause acting upon it. The attraction of the sun is 
a cause constantly in action producing the curved 
orbit of the planets, without which their move- 
ments would be in a straight line through space. 

166 



VOLITIONS CAUSED 

The rain falls to the ground because it is made to 
fall. The air and moisture and warmth of the 
sun's rays are the operating cause of the putting 
forth of vegetation in the spring of the year. 
Everyone knows that the steam-engine, the tele- 
phone, the automobile, and the entire world of 
mechanical arts have come into existence because 
they have been brought into existence. 

But not in the same way, by the application of 
force, has the will been made to originate volitions. 
There is nothing back of it, outside of it, and for- 
eign to it, that has compelled its action. What it 
does it does itself, and from within itself, by a 
power it possesses to bring acts into existence. 
Its work springs from its own energy. Yet we 
lay down the proposition that though the will be 
free, all its volitions are caused ; that in the realm 
of mind, not less than in the realm of nature, there 
cannot be anything new — any change — without a 
cause. 

But it must be noted that we do not always use 
the word cause in the same sense. Writers speak 
of ''efficient cause," "final cause," and "formal 
cause." By " efficient cause " we mean the agency 
or force by which a change is produced. The 
illustrations already given belong to this class. 
The forces operating all through nature — in the 
changing of the seasons, in the flow of water along 
the river's bed, in the growth of vegetation, in all 
the phenomena of the physical world, are mani- 

167 



MAN-BUILDlKiG 

festations of efficient cause. But " final cause " is 
quite distinct from this ; it is the purpose, the end 
for which an act is performed. It must not be 
confounded with the means employed to reach an 
end, but it is the end itself, the purpose preceding 
the employment of means, and which leads to the 
employment of means. This is the initial and 
inciting cause in a rational life. Our acts are not 
forced into existence by some power we cannot 
resist, but are put forth because of some good, 
some desirable end to be obtained. It is the an- 
swer to this interrogatory word, ivhy. Why does 
the farmer summer-fallow his field ? The reason 
for it is the final cause. Why does he prac- 
tise rotation of crops? — The final cause? Why 
does the young man go through college? — The 
final cause ? Why does Mr. A. enter the ministry ? — 
The final cause ? Why has Mr. B. gone to Paris ? — 
The final cause ? Why have the American people 
established a republican form of government? — 
The final cause ? Why do men put their money 
into farms, merchandise, railroads, bank-stock, or 
make any kind of investments ? There is a pur- 
pose, a final cause. A choice is made in view of 
some perceived good or advantage. Without the 
perceived good there would be no- choice, the will 
would be inactive. The mind perceiving and 
appreciating, chooses. Did it not perceive the 
good, there would be nothing to choose, and hence 
no possible volitions. 

168 



VOLITIONS CAUSED 

There is another form of cause to which we have 
alluded, that is necessary in order that the effect 
may be what it is. This we have called " formal 
cause," a plan for doing. It answers to the word 
" liow " in what manner ? Not by what means, for 
this is efficient cause, but according to what plan ? 
We cannot will to do anything unless there is 
some conceived mode of doing it. Thus, it will 
appear, there are three steps. (1) The end to be 
accomplished. (2) The mode of reaching the end. 
(3) The means employed for realizing the end, 
according to the mode determined upon. Take as 
an illustration the manufacture of a watch. As 
preceding the use of machinery in constructing the 
watch there are two requisites, (a) The purpose 
or end to be realized, a watch for keeping time — 
this is the end or final cause, (b) A knowledge of 
mode of procedure, the conception of plan, with 
the skill to execute the plan — this the formal 
cause, (c) And then comes the employment of 
means for the construction of the watch according 
to the plan. This is the use of efficient cause. It 
is the practical mechanical part of it all. Now 
without final cause — the end or purpose of the 
work — there would be no such thing as the con- 
struction of a watch. And the will carries into 
results the purpose formed according to the plan 
followed. Here is a watch : it did not come into 
existence without the operation of a cause. With- 
out an end to be realized there would have been 

*169 



MAN-BUILDING 

no volition whatever in regard to a watch — the 
watch would never have been produced. Without 
a final cause or desired end there could not be 
either formal or efficient cause. Thus in rational 
will man lives on the higher — the highest — plane 
of causality. He sees, knows, and executes. No 
round in the ladder of life — in our ascent to lofty 
and noble manhood — can be more important or 
effective than this. We choose by virtue of what 
we perceive ; we thus, of ourselves, originate move- 
ments. 



CHAPTEE XXXVII 

THE SYMMETRY OF MENTAL LIFE 

As for the intellect, there is no realized objec- 
tive reality without the will ; as the will is value- 
less without intellect, and neither can achieve 
full results without the sensibilities; and as the 
sensibilities would have no field of operation 
without the intellect, and would utterly break 
down without the will, it is of the highest impor- 
tance that these energies of mind be put in complete 
adjustment, each rendering service to the others. 
Together they constitute the trinity of powers, and 
all their work is done in co-operation. As neither 
can do without the others, it would be folly to at- 
tempt to establish an order of relative importance. 
170* 



SYMMETKY OF MENTAL LIFE 

It is true that greatness and non-greatness are 
terms applied to the intellect, goodness and bad- 
ness to the heart, and efficiency and non-efficiency 
to the will, and all of this with some degree of 
appropriateness ; but the intellect alone cannot be 
great, nor the will mighty. What we desire to 
enforce in the present chapter is the need of strict 
proportionality in the development of mental 
powers. 

It is admitted to be a manifestation of weak- 
ness when life flows principally along the channel 
of feeling, not acted upon by the intellect nor 
restrained or guided by the will. This is an 
abnormal condition, and results in a disordered 
life. There are multitudes of people who live for 
pleasure. They seek excitement, and are misera- 
ble without it. So eager are they for this that 
questions of duty are pushed aside. They wish 
to be amused, they cannot endure that which is 
thoughtful, especially when it involves any measure 
of sacrifice. In all this there is selfishness, cruci- 
fying every noble impulse. 

Then there is with many persons a morbid en- 
joyment of the sentimental. They delight in the 
tearful, are never so happy as when weeping ; they 
seem to be very sympathetic; their hearts bleed 
for those in sorrow. But this, too, is a manifesta- 
tion of selfishness, a sort of rapture of pity or 
grief. That it is unwholesome is evident from the 
fact that this class of people are not impelled to 

J71 



MAN-BUILDING 

administer relief, but are utterly disinclined to 
seek out the afflicted with any beneficent purpose. 
We find such persons among confirmed novel 
readers. They live in a world of the sad or tragic 
in fiction, but refuse to go forth into the real world 
of suffering men and women to carry light and 
hope and deliverance. These persons dc not live 
in the sunlight ; they do not want it ; they dwell 
by preference in the dark shadows, in the self- 
deception of a mock virtue of sorrow for others. 
A life like this is wholly worthless. It does not lead 
on to deeds of bravery or generosity; it paralyzes 
the will and keeps the intellect in the background. 
It is simply a drifting on a sea of excitement. The 
highest purpose of the sensibilities is to cherish 
feelings in harmony with cognitions — appropriate 
to cognitions — inciting the will to act in achieving 
what the intellect makes known as privilege or 
duty. 

There is still another class of people who are 
almost utterly emotionless. They are cold and 
stoical. The survey of life with its misfortunes 
and tragedies makes no visible impression on them. 
They sternly move on in a passionless tread what- 
ever scenes stir the public. This does not give 
the highest type of humanity. They are wholly 
unlike the Man of Galilee who was arrested by 
the cry of the blind man ; who was moved by the 
voice of the weeping Mary ; who shed tears over 
Jerusalem as He saw its impending doom ap- 

173 



SYMMETRY OF MENTAL LIFE 

preaching. He was not less a losing companion 
than a mighty leader. 

Great intellectual powers cannot be a substitute 
for fine sensibilities. Indeed the more massive 
the powers of thought, the deeper should be the 
fountain of feeling. He whose mental vision is 
narrow does not see much to stir the soul ; but the 
man who can go down into immense depths of 
thought; unravel the great mysteries of being; 
take, in the sweep of his vision, a universe of 
reality and truth — the man of mighty grasp of 
intellectual power — should, to be perfect, possess 
sensibilities not less comprehensive. Greatness 
must have eyes, not only, but ears to hear the song 
of rejoicing and the wail of humanity; it must 
feel the significance of knowledge ; the heart must 
be as expansive as the intellect. 

But he who has an acut6 intellect and lively 
sensibilities needs also a responsive will. Perhaps 
there is no defect more common than weakness of 
will. People generally know what is right and per- 
ceive that which is best, but very commonly do 
not rise to the effort needed for achievement. 
Indolence and will do not clasp hands. It is more 
difficult to execute than to feel. The will must 
not court ease ; it must not woo pleasure ; it must 
not despise hardships ; it must possess unfaltering 
energy ; it must not tremble in the presence of 
danger, but wield a sceptre that cannot be wrested 
from the grasp. That is perfection of the will that 

173 



MAN-BUILDING 

acts up to the highest ideals of intellect and re- 
sponds to all the normal impulses of the sensi- 
bilities. It is free when it is rational ; and it is 
mighty when it rules. It must say both yes and 
no ; yes, when it should choose action ; no, when 
it is solicited to do that which is unwise or im- 
proper. Hence fullest knowledge should be 
sought, right sentiments cherished, and rational 
choice made ; and when the choice is made, nothing 
should be allowed to deplete the energy of execu- 
tion. Power is largely a might of will, at least a 
consummation of the energies of personal activity. 



CHAPTEE XXXVin 

CHARACTER 

Charactee is the quality of one's life. This is 
a broad statement, meaning not exactly its content, 
but its forces in kind, in degree, in their estab- 
lished trend. It is distinguished from the mental 
life conferred at birth, yet not so much by knowl- 
edge and experience, though there is a world-wide 
difference here — as by habits formed. In charac- 
ter we are what we make ourselves to be. The 
word is usually understood to have a moral signif- 
icance, as between selfishness and unselfishness, 
virtue and vice, high and low aims, purity and im- 

174 



CHAEACTER 

purity, freedom from or subjection to debasing 
appetites and passions. Character is acquired, it 
is not inherited ; it is a personal trend established 
by successive agreeing activities. A single deed, 
good or bad, does not make character ; it is only 
as the mode of life becomes habitual, showing a 
uniformity of inclination which we follow, that 
character becomes actual. 

What are its elements ; how is it produced ? It 
is spoken of as the creature of the will. We es- 
tablish our life by successive operations of will, in 
the choice made, and the direction we give to our 
powers. This is true, but volitions alone do not 
make character. Character comes as a reflex of 
all our energies which the will directs, to which it 
gives employment. 

1. There is in character an intellectual element. 
Nothing can exert a more potent influence over us 
than the thoughts we permit to enter the mind. 
They constitute the objects of attention; they 
supply the world in which we live. Whether they 
come from nature about us ; from text-books in 
the schools ; from the papers and magazines read ; 
from literature or science or history; from ad- 
dresses delivered on the platform or sermons from 
the pulpit ; from novels or philosophical treatises, 
our thoughts are interwoven in our lives and fur- 
nish the basis of all our mental and physical move- 
ments. Man is as his thoughts, the themes he 
considers, the breadth of intellectual comprehen- 

175 



MAN-BUILDING 

sion, and the imagery which these themes hold up 
to the mind. If the thoughts are great, there is 
greatness of mental powers ; if they are vile, there 
is depravity of such powers. If there is inability 
to forge grand intellectual conceptions, the life can- 
not rise higher than the plane of its mental work- 
ings. An individual can be good, but not great 
unless his mental energies are capable of a high 
order of work. He who wields mighty blows in 
the handling of truth, shows, on the intellectual 
side, the capability of a grand personality, if his 
energies are constantly in the right direction. In 
the making of character the intellect should not 
be eliminated from the problem. The race will 
never be lifted up to as high a plane of being as it 
should reach, it will never be able to display a 
character of the greatest merit, without the general 
prevalence of intellectual culture — only indeed as 
the people become thoroughly educated. 

To guide the mental forces is a prime necessity 
in the lifting up of each generation as it makes its 
appearance. Illiteracy opens the way to personal 
and public dangers without number. Eight citi- 
zenship calls for culture ; strong, rational govern- 
ments cannot do without it ; freedom can be main- 
tained only as the people are intelligent. No 
great movements in behalf of reform or in the di- 
rection of human rights can be carried forward to 
large success unless the brain is clear and knowl- 
edge is at the helm. To have a basis of power in 

176 



CHAEACTER 

character, a soul with the firmest fibres for steadi- 
ness of life, as well as might for consistent influ- 
ence, the realm of thought must receive attention. 
Manhood is a life of reason — without the rational 
there can be no manhood. Character is that which 
has become habitual in the life of a rational being. 

2. Another element in character is feeling, and 
when indulged it has a decided tendency to be- 
come habitual. It has already been said that mo- 
tives are made to be motives through the feelings 
which objects of interest awaken within us. Every 
appeal made to us, in business, in scholarship, in 
the political, social, or religious world, finds its way 
to the sensibilities, otherwise it is utterly fruitless. 
Right feelings eventuate in right deeds, and to 
make the life consistently upright, there must be 
uniformly this class of feelings. Thoughts never 
move the will without the co-operation of the feel- 
ings. There is no potency in a right judgment or 
a notion of expediency, but when the judgment or 
the notion awakens an interest, when the heart 
becomes involved, then the will issues its orders. 
Were it not for the feelings midway between the 
intellect and the will, there would be an impassa- 
ble gulf. Feelings bridge the chasm. Hence the 
habitual in feelings establishes character on the 
line of the feelings. And the character is worthy 
just in the ratio of worthy predominating feelings. 

3. Will is the centre of personality ; its office is 
to rule over the life. Character, we admit and af - 

17t 



MAK-BUILDING 

firm, is the product of the will. As it chooses and 
directs is the character that is built up. But it 
performs its work by its control of the thoughts 
and feelings. It should regulate the thoughts with 
infinite exactitude. It should reject all themes 
that are base; it should discard everything that 
would contaminate the imagination or load the 
memory with polluting scenes. It should not per- 
mit the puerile to engross attention. It should 
establish a high plane of intellectual effort. It 
should regularly restrain the intellectual life from 
that which is harmful, and constantly lead it up 
toward the higher realms of truth and knowledge. 
It should carefully guard the sensibilities that 
vile imaginings be excluded. It should create a 
tendency toward the monopoly of the life of the 
spirit by emotions that are consistently elevating 
and refining. It should hold the feelings with 
such a steady hand that they gain the habit of 
operating uniformly in the domain of what is 
noble and exalted. Thus character is made, and 
is as lofty as it is persistent. 



1T8 



TEAINING OF T'HE WILL 

CHAPTEE XXXIX 
TRAINING OF THE WILL 

In the training of the will the end sought should 
be a habit of making right, prompt, and vigorous 
decisions, the giving to will a ready and effective 
supremacy. It must be borne in mind that no 
power can be trained alone. The problem is a 
mixed one. With the end in view of developing 
and guiding the will, several considerations should 
receive our attention. We first refer to the fact 
that indecision often grows out of intellectual un- 
certainty. He who has no opinion has no plans to 
execute. Convictions of judgment must precede 
acts relating to judgments. There can be no in- 
spiration for the doing where clouds obscure the 
vision. Acuteness of intellect, knowledge firmly 
in the grasp, gives a distinct basis for will-move- 
ment. And when the interest felt corresponds 
with the knowledge gained, the antecedent to will- 
power is complete. In the training of the will for 
the best and most rational service, several forms 
of discipline are needed. 

1. There should be a conscientious purpose not 
to allow the will to shirk its responsibilities. A 
habit should be gained of completing thought with 
action. Disinclination for any reason should be 

179 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

overcome. No break should be allowed this side 
of duty done. Life would be truncated, not carried 
out to a rational whole. To be perfect, we must do 
as well as know. With many people there is both 
the spirit and habit of executive indolence. The 
will is thus feeble and becomes more and more 
flaccid. It should be like the well -trained team of 
the fire department, springing forward for its task 
when the alarm is given. To allow thought and 
feeling to evaporate into thin air is to make will 
nearly a nonentity. Putting it out of commission 
is to give it no place in the battle of life. 

2. The will should be trained into a spirit and 
habit of promptitude. Some people seem to be 
governed by the principle of never doing to-day 
what can be put off till to-morrow. In business 
always behind ; in meeting an engagement invari- 
ably late. " Oh, plenty of time ! " Napoleon swept 
over Europe because he was always ahead. " Strik- 
ing while the iron is hot " — not after it cools off — 
fortunes are made. " Pretty soon " is failure. 
The boy who begins life with methods of procras- 
tination will be a toy in the hands of fate. The 
student who neglects his lesson till just before the 
hour for recitation may, perhaps, be graduated, but 
with meagre scholarship. The moment a debt is 
due is the moment to pay it. As soon as duty calls 
is the time to respond. Holding one's self to the 
resolute purpose of prompt and unflinching execu- 
tion of plans formed, the will rises naturally and 

180 



TEAINING OF THE WILL 

easily to all the demands made upon it. It be^ 
comes reliable and certain along tlie lines of its 
training. 

3. The will to be trained so as to become mighty 
must have vigorous employment. Solomon never 
spoke more wisely than when he said, " Whatso- 
ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." 
The decisions rendered should have a strong fibre. 
" I rather think I will do this or that " breathes 
an air of feebleness. Planting one's feet firmly is 
a preparation for the strife. Indecision is a listen- 
ing for the command to retreat. Greatness is 
never gained by tentative efforts. Doing becomes 
grand when the whole soul is thrown into the 
work. The weather-vane tells the direction of the 
wind, but it has no power to regulate its course. 
By vigorous use, acquiring the tendency to will 
strongly, life becomes almost irresistible. Be not 
content to possess passive virtues ; act aggressively ; 
accustom the will to put energy into its decisions, 
and it must triumph. 

4. Never allow the will to falter, though experi- 
ences be trying. He who can " swear to his own 
hurt and change not" has a conscience and will 
that do not swerve from duty. To bring the will 
into a state that is ready to do difficult things is to 
secure efficient training. No test is better than 
this, and no process more effective in working out 
positive results. " A remarkably successful busi- 
ness man," says Halleck, " said he had divided all 

181 



MAN-BUlLDING 

persons into two classes ; those who did what they 
promised or were directed to do, and those who re- 
turned with some reason why they had not done 
it. When he employed persons he always set 
them certain hard tasks at the outset. If they re- 
turned with a reason why they had not done it, he 
dismissed them. In this way he surrounded him- 
self with an unusually fine set of employees on 
whom he could depend." "Nothing schools the 
will and renders it ready for effort in this complex 
world better than accustoming it to face disagree- 
able things." Professor James advises all " to do 
something occasionally for no other reason than 
they would rather not do it ; if it is nothing more 
than giving up a seat in a street-car. A will 
schooled in this way is always ready to respond, 
no matter how great the emergency. While another 
would be still crying over spilled milk, the pos- 
sessor of such a will has already begun to milk 
another cow." 

Not only to secure power should will be trained, 
but that it may be guided in the right direction. 
We do not here speak of unprofitable choice, un- 
successful choice in money making ; in the gaining 
of a livelihood ; in the employment adopted ; this 
is usually, if wrong, an error of judgment, a fault 
of the intellect ; but we speak of decisions involv- 
ing right, relating to the true office of the "will. 
When personal interests say one thing and right 
the opposite, what shall the will do ? He who is 

182 



OFFICE OF CONSCIENCE 

true to the best ideals will make the sacrifice of 
personal advantage and profit that justice and 
right may prevail. It is just here that people fail 
more than anywhere else. The mightiest will is 
that which enforces principles of equity what- 
ever may be the bearing on individual interests. 
To be able promptly, unhesitatingly, and easily to 
do this, displays a will of the highest order. To 
secure this should be the aim of every young man 
and woman. When this becomes an accomplished 
fact the world will have reached a state of moral 
perfection. Bighteousness is a creation of will. 



CHAPTEE XL 

THE OFFICE OF CONSCIENCE 

The organism of life, we have seen, is exceed- 
ingly complex. Each individual is a composite 
unit, endowed with diverse powers. Can the 
members of the human family, thrown out to- 
gether on the field of competitive activity, be kept 
from destructive antagonism? Will not strife, 
bitter and interminable, be a certainty ? Will not 
men jostle each other, getting in each other's way, 
unrestrained except by fear ? The ability to know, 
to feel, and to will, if this be all, cannot establish 
harmonious relations ; they do not set in operation 

183 



MAN-BUILDING 

a working plan in which agreement will be realized. 
Knowledge is not a competent arbiter in the midst 
of selfish interests and inordinate greed. And 
feeling left to itself will lead away from righteous 
ends ; while will is lawless, except under restraint. 
The race is sure to be a failure unless there be a 
standard of right, a clear moral vision to perceive 
the standard, and a force acting on the life in the 
direction of right. God therefore has provided 
man with a conscience as a regulating energy, sup- 
plying a need vital to his well-being as an individ- 
ual and as a constituent of the race. 

If the word conscience is made to stand for the 
complex psychosis of the moral force within us, it 
expresses three distinct operations. 

1. It is the power of making moral distinc- 
tions, of perceiving there are two opposite quali- 
ties and spheres — right and wrong — in the moral 
world. It is a power by which the moral law is 
recognized. In a sense it is a moral legislator, not 
exactly enacting the law, but bringing it within 
the scope of reason, finding it as a universal prin- 
ciple, and therefore as universally binding. This 
ability to make moral distinctions is not gained 
by training ; the law is not a generalization, an 
inference based on an agreement or uniformity 
found by means of a multitude of observations on 
the part of each human being; but there is in the 
mind a power of intuitive perception of rightness, 
a power to recognize right, long before the child is 

184 



OFFICE OF CONSCIENCE 

able to find a sufficiently wide basis for this uni- 
versal distinction. Eight is a first principle, but 
inferences or generalizations are derived. 

2. The second form of activity of conscience is 
what may be called the moral judgment, not find- 
ing the law, but judging of the quality of acts by 
the law. While the former has the force of legis- 
lation, this is judicial. In the act performed the 
law is obeyed or violated. As, for instance, in 
what I did was I honest or dishonest ? Was I 
justified in making the statement which I made ? 
Is it right for me to vote this ticket? Is the 
business in which I am engaged a legitimate one ? 
To ask if I can conscientiously do a particular 
deed is to raise the question of its agreement with 
the law of right. It is a judicial inquiry in the 
field of morals. And it is intended that this func- 
tion of conscience shall be constantly in operation. 
It is the exercise of judgment in the moral sphere. 
To find the law is one thing, to judge acts by the 
law is quite another. 

3. The third form of mental action in con- 
science is emotional. We here have moral senti- 
ments. They are feelings which attach themselves 
to moral judgments. The condemnation by the 
judgment of an act as wrong carries with it a feel- 
ing of condemnation. With an approving judg- 
ment there is associated an approving feeling. The 
judgment and feeling cannot be dissociated, they 
cannot be separated by a period of time. The 

185 



MAN-BUILDING 

emotion is not felt in the absence of the judgment 
though it may exist in different degrees of inten- 
sity in relation to the act, or judgment concerning 
the act. This emotional force is subject to great 
variations. It may be acute ; it may be dull ; it 
may be intensely awake ; it may be nearly asleep ; 
it may be sensitive ; it may be seared over ; it may 
be an accusing energy ; or it may be in a state of 
indifference. It may be quickly responsive or 
slow in its movements. It may be persistent in 
its demands or yielding to opposing forces. 

The purpose of conscience with its three-fold 
functions is the regulation of life on lines of right, 
justice, and humanity, so that duties may be dis- 
charged, obligations met, and wrong find no place 
among men. No provision could be more complete. 
A law of moral distinctions universally perceived, 
and as a law being a universal imperative ; the 
ability to judge of the moral qualities of acts con- 
stantly brought into operation ; and an emotional 
energy prompting obedience, making life miser- 
able when moral judgments are disregarded, and 
peaceful and joyous when the claims of the law are 
regarded and its voice listened to, such is the com- 
bined force seeking to rule in the breast. In loy- 
alty to conscience humanity reaches its highest 
condition of excellence ; in disloyalty there is de- 
basement of life, and it may be a degradation lead- 
ing to ultimate ruin of the soul. Without con- 
science there would be no restraints from wrong, 
186 



TEAIXING OF CONSCIENCE 

society would be torn into fragments ; more than 
this, every man's hand would be lifted up against 
his neighbor, and earth would be a pandemonium. 
To live here at all as a race, with social and busi- 
ness relations, under government for protection, 
with associate interests calling for co-operation, 
conscience is an indisputable requisite. At every 
turn we make we need its voice to guide us, and 
to be able to see the sceptre it wields. 



CHAPTEE XLI 

THE TRAINING OF CONSCIENCE 

It is unfortunate that the practical authority of 
conscience is not equal to its rights. It is born a 
King, but like many another sovereign it has re- 
bellious subjects. If set to be the ruler over our 
lives it ought to possess qualifications of the high- 
est possible order ; it would be well, indeed, were 
it infallible. But is it not infallible ? We hold that 
it is infallible as a legislator, or in other words, in 
bringing to us a moral law, for there is no race, 
no tribe, no individual however uneducated that 
does not intuitively apprehend moral distinctions. 
Without instruction, at the very opening of human 
intelligence, as we have said, the child proceeds on 
the basis — the practical theory — of moral order 

187 



MAN-BUILDING 

under which all deportment must come. This is 
never imparted as a tenet of belief, as a truth to 
be learned, but all instruction given assumes this 
as an innate qualification, an existing preparation 
for moral judgments. We say to the child " this 
is wrong," but we never say there is such a thing 
as wrong. 

In the exercise of its judicial functions in settling 
the question of the right or wrong of specific 
deeds — that is, in the domain of moral judgments 
■ — conscience is not infallible, it often makes mis- 
takes. We not only, from a lack of knowledge, 
frequently misjudge other people as to their pur- 
poses, the character of their acts, but we may 
wrongly render a decision in regard to our own 
deeds. We may conceive an act to be humane 
which is not humane, or to be harmful when it is 
a blessing. Our ability to judge depends upon our 
knowledge, which is not a fixed quantity, and cer- 
tainly is not without limit. Omniscience alone is 
beyond the possibility of error in judgment as to the 
quality and bearing of every act. We therefore say 
that conscience, as moral judgment, can and ought 
to be educated. It should daily gain more skill 
in determining the nature of the relations in which 
we live, and the bearing of our acts upon others. 
And we should seek to sharpen our powers of 
moral judgment so that they shall quickty respond 
when a question of right is raised. This is a court 
into which every deed bearing on our relations to 

188 



TEAINING OF CONSCIENCE 

our fellow-men should be brought. The most rep- 
rehensible of all methods of procedure is the com- 
mon exclusion of our deeds from this court. The 
inquiry which the soul should make of itself at 
every step in life is, what shall I do for my neigh- 
bor — in this world of business, in this world in 
which relations are intertwined, in this world in 
which each is dependent on every other member 
of the race? Yes, the moral judgment can and 
should be educated. 

As to the emotional functions of conscience, the 
aim of which is to secure the execution of moral 
judgments, are they susceptible to training ? There 
can be no subject for inquiry more important than 
this. Does the education of the moral judgments 
cover the whole ground ? We have said that moral 
sentiments, as to kind, will be in harmony with the 
decisions of the judgment ; they attach themselves 
to and support the judgment. But the emotional 
state of the conscience may be more or less vehe- 
ment, more or less importunate, it may more or 
less fully rise to the demands of the judgment. 
There is a great difference between a slight uneasi- 
ness of feeling and remorse ; a degree of disquie- 
tude that calmly chides and that poignant horror 
of the soul which drives " sleep from the eyes and 
slumber from the eyelids." The training of this 
energy of the conscience is like the training of any 
other mental susceptibility or power — it is effected 
through rational employment. Suppressing feel- 

189 



MAN-BUILDING 

ing when it ought to have place in the life will 
deaden its force. Persistently refusing to carry out 
the decrees of the judgment will gradually result 
in less disquietude of soul. On the other hand, 
living up to the claims which conscience makes, 
regular obedience to the commands it issues, will 
keep it alert and make it just and forcible in the 
fulfilment of its office. Treat conscience rightly ; 
appreciate at their full value the judgments ren- 
dered ; loyally carry these judgments into execu- 
tion ; let the sentiments in behalf of honesty, virtue, 
fair dealing, of all human rights, and the divine 
claims, be regarded as a precious possession of the 
soul — an expression of humanity itself in its best 
mood — and conscience will unfold not less per- 
fectly and grandly than any other energy of your 
life under the best conditions of progress. 

But if conscience be not perfect, why say it 
should be obeyed? There must be supremacy 
lodged somewhere, and if not in conscience, in what 
other faculty of our being? Were we to say that 
conscience might be disobeyed, it would be holding 
that it would be right to do what at the time we 
thought to be wrong. We are not now considering 
absolute relations, but the principle by which we 
are to be guided. We desire, it is assumed, to get 
as near as possible to the right in our deportment. 
The way is plain. Employing the light we have 
in making a decision is doing the best we can do. 
That answers the demands of conscience for that 
190 



TEAINING OF CONSCIENCE 

particular deed. But still it may cover up wrong, 
it may be in violation of important relations, for 
we may have carelessly or wilfully neglected to 
obtain the light needed to make the right decision. 
We do not thus meet our entire obligation in mak- 
ing the decision, and can justly be held responsi- 
ble for the inability that had been self- incurred. 
But when a person says I am doing the best I can, 
what more can be asked of him? Nothing more 
can be asked for that moment, but there may be 
shortcomings in the past which enfeebled con- 
science, unfitting it to give utterance to that which 
is nearer the absolute standard of right. Hence, 
though conscientious, we may be guilty, not be- 
cause we follow conscience — not in the following 
of conscience — but because of previous dereliction 
in not educating conscience. He who is conscien- 
tious in what he does, and scrupulously educates 
the conscience in making right judgments and 
cherishing right feelings, will constantly grow up 
toward a perfect life. 

Conscience is sometimes called the voice of God. 
It does make its appeal in behalf of right ; it is 
loyal to the principles of truth ; it makes its de- 
cisions in the interest of righteousness and univer- 
sal humanity, and it echoes the feelings of the 
Divine Heart against wrongs of every kind, and in 
favor of a life that ever looks toward holiness and 
heaven. Give to it absolute authority. 



191 



MAN-BUILDING 

CHAPTER XLII 
THE POWER OF CONVICTIONS 

The high order of powers with which God has 
endowed the race supplies an equipment for the 
accomplishment of great results. And conscience 
holding the scales of justice provides a regulating 
force in the employment of these powers. Is any- 
thing further needed to secure the largest achieve- 
ments ? While conscience stands in the defence 
of right, it may be purely repressive. Forbidding 
that which is wrong, it may fail to stimulate to 
action. It may utter its prohibitions with great 
force, yet leave the life stationary. As a propel- 
ling energy, if much that is of value be done, there 
must be positive and strong convictions. By strong 
convictions we do not mean a sanguine tempera- 
ment. This may be helpful or harmful. While 
it awakens anticipations of good, it may put too 
much coloring into life. 

Convictions stand over in opposition to uncer- 
tainty, inappreciativeness, slight estimate of values. 
It is not frivolous, or easy-going ; it takes a serious 
view of things that are important. It is faith in 
action. It is the intellectual life holding with a 
firm grasp the realities on which it looks, and with 
an intent gaze. Under its influence whatever is 
done is done with a will. 

192 



POW^E OF COKVICTlOlSrS 

The young man in college who looks upon a lib- 
eral education as of great worth, will become a 
scholar. His hours will not be squandered ; he 
will throw his whole soul into his work, and will 
make the sacrifice necessary to carry out his plans. 
Student life in our schools falls below what is pos- 
sible, just to the extent that low standards prevail. 
He who is in college because his parents send him, 
or because he would be glad to have a reputation 
for scholarship, or because of the prominence of 
athletics, will never take the lead in mental pur- 
suits. But the young man who is deeply impressed 
with the conviction that learning is worth more than 
money, more than any other earthly good ; whose 
thoughts and plans are dominated by an overwhelm- 
ing desire to dwell in the temple of truth, will over- 
come all difficulties in his search for knowledge. 

The majority of people take the world easily. 
They must labor or starve, but they are most 
happy when the demands made on them are the 
least exacting. They do not enter into the spirit 
of industry ; they are not eager for the strife with 
nature's forces in the feeling that they have a mis- 
sion for the development of the age in material re- 
sources, or in the wider interests of a genuine civ- 
ilization. Too much is the individual lost in the 
mass ; we are swept through life by the momentum 
of the tide of humanity, instead of exerting a per- 
sonal influence in shaping affairs. Nothing to do 
but to move on with the crowd ! Hence it is that 

193 



MAN-BUILDING 

the few make history, the few only who dig out 
the channels in which life — industrial, civil, and 
religious — moves. 

We make the assertion that great changes have 
been wrought on the earth less through favoring 
conditions than by the power of deep-seated and 
engrossing convictions. And again that great 
achievements have been made only as the soul has 
arisen in its might, with a consciousness of per- 
sonal responsibilities, or such a conviction of power 
as to control all the energies of life. Patriotism is 
the mightiest impulse in an army because it is the 
heart that quickens the nerves, supplies undying 
tenacity to the will, and makes the cause for which 
the army is battling more precious than any other 
interest. 

Pick out the leaders in the great world move- 
ments of the ages. They have been men and wom- 
en who have believed profoundly in what they 
were doing, and were heroes before they struck a 
blow. Paul knew he was set for the regeneration 
of the race when having heard the voice of the 
Son of God from the skies he was commissioned at 
Damascus to go forth as the messenger of truth. 
He had asked the question, " What wilt thou have 
me to do ? " and so thoroughly is he dominated by 
his convictions that he cries out, "Woe is unto me 
if I preach not the gospel." Luther became in- 
vincible when his eyes were opened to the enor- 
mities of the doctrines and the practices of the 

194 



POWER OF CONVICTIONS 

Church, and he found himself alone in the thick of 
the battle. A man who can face an empire with- 
out the quiver of a muscle ; who so thoroughly be- 
lieves in the righteousness of his cause that he can 
unflinchingly cry out, " Hero I stand, I can do no 
other," cannot easily be trampled under foot, and 
hence the revolution of the sixteenth century. I 
do not know that Joan of Arc held a divine com- 
mission, but she did not doubt she was called to 
deliver her people, and the world w^as astonished 
by her military achievements. They call Edison 
the wizard, but a man who is so deeply engrossed 
in his studies as to be utterly oblivious of the flight 
of time, who works on till the morning dawns, and 
for weeks and months hides himself from the world, 
retiring from all human companionship that he 
may talk with nature, cannot be defeated. 

No man is mighty in the pulpit who but half 
believes the Bible. The young man who says, " I 
can," makes destiny. *' This one thing I do," con- 
trols fate. Napoleon's belief that he was a man of 
destiny made him irresistible, and he invariably 
triumphed till recklessness took the place of ra- 
tional convictions. The pilgrims' trust in God led 
to the braving of the perils of an unknown sea, and 
the redemption of a continent from the barbarism 
of savage tribes. Wealth flows into the lap of him 
who with heart devotion intelligently concentrates 
his powers on the work of money-making. The 
summit of influence and power is gained by him 

195 



MAN-BUILDING 

who with unfaltering steps climbs the mountain- 
side to greatness. He who doubts leads a strength- 
less life ; but the man who has intense convictions 
of duty, profound convictions of power, throws 
might into his movements and snatches victory 
even from the hand of adversity. 



CHAPTER XLIII 

THE SPIRITUAL 

When we say that man possesses a spiritual 
nature, we do not mean simply that he is a spirit 
in contrast with matter, or that he possesses ener- 
gies of thought, of feeling, and willing which are 
unlike the properties of material objects ; but that 
he is endowed with susceptibilities of being im- 
pressed by the supernatural, and with powers to 
reach out and find God and commune with Him. 
And in asserting this we are not considering God 
as known in metaphysics, a necessary cause for all 
finite things, a fact which the scholar determines 
as a foundation of conditioned being — a cold 
intellectual affirmation — but as a power which 
even the unlearned, who know nothing about meta- 
physics, have of entering into God's presence and 
holding converse with Him. The intellect tells us 
about God ; our spiritual powers find Him. 

19G 



THE SPIRITtJAL 

The conviction of the supernatural is universal. 
No tribe of men has ever been found that did not 
conceive of a life beyond the present. Though not 
comprehending God's Being and plans, yet in all 
ages men have stood in awe of Him, and have 
sought to placate Him, or secure personal favors. 
Wrought into our life, then, and as a part of our 
life, there is a reaching out after God. This lifts 
up the race to a state of dignity and opportunity 
it otherwise could not realize. Most wonderful is 
man in that for him — because of the range of his 
powers — there is provision for divine companion- 
ship. 

Whatever may be said of the lower animal world 
as to powers of knowing, remembering, and reason- 
ing, it has no apprehension of the Eternal Spirit. 
Ifcs intellectual nature does not reach up to the 
plane where the Infinite dwells. Nothing is so 
wonderful as that our life can touch God's life, 
that there is direct communication between Him 
and us. 

Some have held that worship is ignoble, adora- 
tion unbecoming to man's dignity. Is patriotism 
unbecoming, is it degrading to shout for our 
country's flag? Is the love of the child for the 
parent, a love that leads to joyous acquiescence in 
the very wish of the father or mother, an evidence 
of personal degradation ? To pay to the Supreme 
Being the highest honor the soul can render, is 
this a stooping of manhood ? Is it degrading for 

197 



MAN-BUILDING 

the needy to acknowledge his wants ; for the igno- 
rant to ask for wisdom ? Is it belittling for the 
sinful to seek for help that he may rise above his 
sinful propensities ? Is it not, indeed, the highest 
act of a human intelligence to adore God as the 
Eternal Spirit, possessing all knowledge, holding 
in His hands the destiny of the universe, omnipo- 
tent and omnipresent, beholding the end from the 
beginning, fathomless in His love, infinite in His 
mercy, perfect in all His attributes ? How exalt- 
ing true worship is ! It requires the loftiest pow- 
ers of cognition. There must be the ability to 
conceive of and know God. We cannot worship 
the unknowable. And then there must be a spirit 
of fidelity to the relations we sustain to Him. He 
is base in whose heart dwells disloyalty to truth, 
to love, to justice, to mercy, to that which is com- 
plete in power and goodness, which is the fulness 
of divine life. 

There are two or three facts that must not 
escape our attention. He in whose breast spiritual 
forces are deadened lives on a plane far below 
ideal manhood. He has an emasculated nature. 
He has parted with the richest of his endowments. 
Gratitude to the Divine Being is a loftier act, and 
is more meritorious in spirit, than gratitude to any 
earthly benefactor. To recognize the continuous 
beneficence of our Heavenly Father is more ra- 
tional than the fullest appreciation of any favors 
the public can bestow. 

198 



THE SPIEITUAL 

The office of rational worship in exalting the 
life is seen in the practical workings of the Chris- 
tian religion when preserved in its purest spiritual 
state. There is no other form of civilization to be 
compared with Christian civilization as a develop- 
ment of human life. Here power is organized in 
its largest proportions ; governments come the 
nearest to the line of equity; humanity has its 
richest flavor; homes are most peaceful and 
happy; intelligence bears widest sway, and per- 
sonal rights are most fully regarded. And when 
any community is most completely under the 
power of a spiritual life, all forms of evil are les- 
sened, and vice hides its deformed head. 

The spiritual completes the manhood and re- 
stores the divine image. Without it this would be 
a world utterly lost. It is the great conservative 
power for right. God must touch human hearts 
or society is a failure. Tear out from the soul the 
fibres of the spiritual and ruin would speedily 
follow. Quicken and deepen the spiritual forces 
and right would wield a mightier sceptre, and the 
nature of man would become richer in all that is 
good and lovely. In the spiritual is found man's 
highest excellence. 

But to give the spiritual its greatest power, the 
intellect must do its best work, the heart offer its 
richest oblations, and the will hold the soul most 
inflexibly to duty. That religiously there is ad- 
vantage in intellectual culture is apparent when 

199 



MAN-BUILDING 

we remember that all truth is of God. The more 
we know, the better we understand His works, and 
the more thoroughly we discipline our powers, the 
greater will be our ability to reach up toward the 
Infinite. The culture of the heart affects a spirit 
of reverence for truth and makes it more ready to 
submit to its sway. The will taught to choose 
right and duty, so as to incline the whole life 
thereto, puts the soul in a state of loyalty to the 
divine government. The spiritual, in building up 
our being, requires all of these, using them as its 
servants, making them the foundation of its tem- 
ple of perfection. He is the best Christian who 
knows the most of God, adores Him with the most 
ardor of soul, and keeps nearest to Christ in daily 
companionship. 



200 



PART SECOND 

PHYSIOLOGICAL 



CHAPTEK XLIV 

INTEGRITY AND DIFFERENTIATION OF THE 
BODY 

It is impossible to understand the human mind 
without embracing in our studies the functions of 
the body. It is especially necessary to trace the 
relations of the nervous system to mental forces 
and activities. This we have done in our exposi- 
tion of the first forms of knowledge. As mental 
manifestations first appear in sensation and per- 
ception ; and other forms of knowledge in their 
development rest back on the energies thus 
awakened ; it is impossible to take the first step 
in the unfolding of the science of mind without a 
resort to principles of physiology. This we have 
considered so far as the discussion seemed to re- 
quire. There are other physiological facts and 
conditions which call for exposition in order that 
the subject of manhood may be properly rounded 
out. It is not our purpose to write a physiologi- 
cal treatise, but to supplement what we have said 
by the statement of such facts as directly bear on 
the right methods of living. 

An individual is defined as " a single person in- 
capable of separation or division, without losing 

203 



MAN-BUILDING 

its identity." It therefore possesses unity. The 
unity of the body, however, is unlike the unity of 
the mind. The body is composite, while the mind 
is non-composite. The body is capable of division 
into parts, mind substance is incapable of such di- 
vision. The mind is an absolutely inseparable en- 
tity with differentiated functions only ; the body 
consists of parts, and the functional differentiation 
is the location of specific energies distributively in 
these several parts. The eye is a medium of sight 
and the ear of hearing — here we hav^ structural 
differentiation as a necessity for functional differ- 
entiation — but it is the whole mind that sees 
through the eye and hears through the ear, the 
differentiation being only functional. In this we 
find a wide contrast. 

There is one part of the bodily structure which 
in the universality of its functional operation ap- 
proximates somewhat the functional oflice of mind : 
we here speak of the nervous system. The sphere 
of service of the muscles is limited, of the bones is 
limited, of the hands and feet is limited ; but the 
nervous system presides over the whole body, 
gives life to it all, and supplies every part with the 
energy of sensation. But this even is localized 
in the specific offices serVed. Sight differs from 
every other sense, and performs its office through 
the optic nerve. Taste is a special sensation for 
which special nerves in the mouth are supplied. 
In bodily differentiation, therefore, there are spe- 

204 



DIFFEEENTIATION OF THE BODY 

cific organs to which are assigned special offices 
in the economy of life and mode of action. 

While mind and body are interdependent, neither 
in the economy of nature existing without the other, 
and in many respects neither performing its work 
without the co-operation of the other, yet bodily de- 
fects, when they exist, are largely local, but mental 
defects impair the whole mental being. The hand 
may be amputated without harm to general bodily 
health. The ear may be deafened without impair- 
ment of other organs. Indeed, when one organ is 
rendered useless, some other organ is often quick- 
ened and made more serviceable. When sight 
fails, hearing may gradually become more attent. 
But a mental weakness is a limitation of mind 
energy for which there is no substitute. Feeble 
powers of perception work harm to the imagina- 
tion, to memory, and even to thought itself in the 
absence of material for thought. 

Yet there are great laws which run through the 
bodily structure as well as the mind. The same 
general principle operates in development, a law 
of growth by use. The mind is built up by the 
gaining of knowledge — the development and in- 
herence of knowledge ; the body by the supply of 
food which is incorporated into the physical struct- 
ure. Continuous mental inaction produces mental 
weakness ; bodily inaction enfeebles the muscles. 
The mind needs rest from severe effort, and in a 
like manner the body ; but in each probably the 

205 



MAN-BUILDING 

danger is from too great nervous strain. In nu- 
trition, the food supplies waste, which is constant- 
ly taking place — for bodily structure parts with 
constituents of its being in the energies exerted. 
There is no such thing as mental waste, as a law 
of being. Knowledge gained may become uncon- 
scious, but it is not lost ; it comes back into con- 
sciousness when favorable conditions arise. Mind 
is intended to be accumulative, growing in knowl- 
edge and might, expanding in its life through the 
entire period of its existence. The body, however, 
reaches its largest power in a few years of time, 
and then passes down a declivity of energy and 
service, ending in death. 

We devote a few chapters to discussions which 
have to do with the physiological side of our being 
as affecting mind and character. In this world 
we cannot live as mind alone, our personality em- 
braces both body and spirit in mutual action and 
co-operation. 



CHAPTEE XLV 

THE CARE OF THE BODY 

While caring only for the body defeats the 
purposes of life, its neglect, even because of an 
absorbing interest in the operations of mind, is 
productive of harm. " A sound mind in a sound 

206 



CAEE OF THE BODY 

body " has been a favorite motto. We may push 
the thought a little further and say that mind 
efficiency, in the fullest sense, cannot be ob- 
tained without a body both sound and trained 
for co-operation with the mind. 

The first thing to be considered is health. Many 
persons become enfeebled because of excessive 
labor. There is something wrong in our civiliza- 
tion when individuals must either shorten life by 
too exhaustive labor or die from starvation. This 
is not accounted for by a lack of business capacity. 
Making full allowance for this there are many who 
are crowded into conditions of ruinous competition 
and robbed of the natural fruit of their toil. The 
woman who makes shirts at six cents apiece is not 
to be set down as an incompetent, but as a victim 
of rapacity. And she must toil through the night 
if she would live through the day. There are 
multitudes of people who cannot get out from a 
state of degrading servitude, many of whom de- 
plete their powers of resistance to disease, and die 
a premature death. Social conditions which ad- 
mit of this industrial trend, and which lead to it, 
need a reconstruction. 

There is an opposite tendency, especially with cer- 
tain classes. Persons of sedentary habits, or those 
having employment in forms of industry which do 
not call for physical effort, are quite likely to 
neglect physical exercise. Book-keeping, type- 
writing, office work of any kind offers temptations 

207 



MAN-BUILDIISrG 

to general physical inaction, with a tendency to 
bodily harm. The traditional college student was 
pale of cheek, with hollow eyes and bent form. 
He was said to have an intellectual look because 
the physical had faded and left but the shadow. 
What was the cause of the evil? Not, usually, 
overstudy, but the absence of provision for obtain- 
ing physical vigor. But it is found that scholar- 
ship does not require the sacrifice of muscular 
energy. Indeed the best mental results are com- 
patible only with the strongest physical integrity. 
The general introduction of athletics into our 
schools of learning has not, it is believed, de- 
pressed the mental tone of student life. Nowhere 
do we find young men with better physical devel- 
opment than the majority of college graduates. 
The Senior ought to be, and can be, hardier — hav- 
ing more of muscular energy — than when a Fresh- 
man. What is needed in a college graduate is 
manhood, stalwart in both body and mind. This 
achieved and the true ideal is realized. But the 
best results are commonly not fully reached. 
At present there is danger that some will draw 
too largely on their physical vitality, and others 
wholly fail to participate in athletic operations. 
One class of students is employed in the doing, 
the rest in looking on. And they who are set 
to uphold the athletic standing of the institu- 
tion, not unfrequently, by over-exertion, incur per- 
sonal harm that entails suffering through life, A 

208 



CABE OF The body 

college " Coach " said to the writer that football- 
ists almost invariably incur some permanent disa- 
bility. Now arrangements will not be perfect till 
the entire student body regularly participate in 
athletic movements. The gymnasium makes pro- 
vision for this, but its work is usually confined to 
the winter months. It is of the greatest impor- 
tance that all the young people of our schools — of 
higher and lower grade — be supplied with syste- 
matic physical training, that in youth the sym- 
metry of the entire person may be secured and 
thereafter preserved. 

As allied to the foregoing there is the subject of 
regular — or irregular — personal habits. Young life 
generally is able to withstand much of physical 
strain. There is usually a large supply of vitality ; 
the building-up forces are strong, and they quickly 
respond to the needs as they arise. Kecuperation 
readily follows the excessive taxing of the muscles 
and nerves, and derangement of the powers is 
ordinarily soon corrected. There is a stock of 
energy on hand to meet emergencies. We begin 
life with a large physical capital on which we can 
draw in the important business of living. But 
this capital is not inexhaustible, and ought not to 
be used up more rapidly than is necessary. And 
it cannot be kept from rapid depletion without 
rational habits of life. Habits consist of an order, 
an established uniformity, as we have said, a set- 
tled trend in living and doing. Eight habits are a 

209 



MAN-BUILDING 

safeguard, a right tendency promotive of harmo- 
nious action. Now these habits ought to be de- 
veloped in every young man and woman. The 
exuberance of young life creates an inclination to 
break away from that which is regular, the step- 
ping over rational boundaries ; introducing infrac- 
tion of physical laws. Every violation of nature's 
requirements brings its penalty. Drawing on our 
reserves may not immediately produce bankruptcy, 
but it uses up capital. We pay for all we take. 

Eating at irregular hours, and then between 
meals ; retiring for rest at ten o'clock, or not till 
two in the morning; breathing the fetid air of 
close and crowded apartments; the neglect of fre- 
quent ablutions; the pampering of the appetite 
with rich food taken in large quantities — the being 
governed by inclination, disregarding the nor- 
mal functions of the body, will be sure to work 
irreparable injury to the physical manhood. Con- 
science and common-sense should govern in the 
care of the body, even as in the great interests of 
the soul. 



210 



BRAIK FORCES 

CHAPTEK XLVI 
BRAIN FORCES 

Attention has been called to the fact that the 
nervous system ramifies throughout the entire 
body, and sustains important relations with every 
muscle, bone, and membrane of this organic whole. 
The brain with the spinal cord as its extension, is 
the central organ of this system. "The neural 
matter of the organism in general is of two sorts — 
the white and gray matter. The white matter is 
fibrous in structure, even where it lies in masses ; 
the gray matter is cellular. The nerve-fibres and 
trunks consist of white matter. The spinal cord 
and the medulla consist of both — the white outside, 
the gray within. The cerebellum and the central 
hemispheres also consist of both, but with them 
the gray is outside and the white within. The 
central mass, which presents a number of distinct 
organs, consists of the two kinds of matter vari- 
ously intermixed. Apparently the function of the 
white fibrous matter is to transmit impressions ; 
that of the gray cellular matter is to receive, trans- 
form, and emit impressions." (Davis.) Through 
the gray matter mental functions are performed. 

" The human nerve-centres are surrounded by 
many dense wrappings, of which the effect is to 

211 



MAK-BUILDlNG 

protect them from the direct action of the forces of 
the outer world. The hair, the thick skin of the 
scalp, the skull, and two membranes at least, one of 
them a tough one, surround the brain; and this 
organ, moreover, is bathed by a serous fluid, in 
which it floats suspended." (James.) Equal care 
is observed in preserving from harm the spinal cord, 
which extends along a hollow or tube of the verte- 
brae that comprise the spinal column. These ver- 
tebrae are articulated so as to produce flexibility — 
for the bending of the body so necessary for free 
action. 

The brain is pre-eminently a mind organ. It 
consists of three lobes, named respectively, the 
cerebrum, the larger and frontal division of the 
brain, through which evidently consciousness and 
will are realized ; the cerebellum, lying underneath 
the back part of the cerebrum, which conserves 
combined muscular action ; and the medulla ob- 
longata, that part of the posterior brain which is 
connected with the spinal cord and has to do di- 
rectly with the vital functions of the body. 

As a being capable both of intelligence and loco- 
motion there is provided for man two sets of 
nerves, sensory and motor, connecting the brain 
with the rest of the body. The sensory nerves are 
nerves through which sensations are produced, and 
impressions carried to the brain. It is their office 
to communicate intelligence of the state of the 
body, and of external objects affecting the body. 

212 



BEAIN FORCES 

It is by means of these nerves that sensations of 
temperature arise in the skin, or pain is experi- 
enced from a cut or bruise. The special senses of 
sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell belong to this 
class. The motor nerves act in response to the 
sensory, carrying the mandates of the will. They 
set the muscles in motion in view of tidings re- 
ceived. For instance, the ear reports the door-bell 
ringing, and the brain sends a message, through the 
motor nerves, to the feet to move to the door, and 
to the hand to open the door. The eye announces 
approaching danger, and the brain directs us to 
repair to a place of safety. Thus we act intelli- 
gently in regard to the affairs of life. 

It has before been said that on the nerves every 
part of the body is dependent in its organic life and 
the performance of its special functions. Not only 
do the muscles receive impressions through the 
agency of the sensory nerves and put forth effort 
by means of the motor nerves, but all waste in the 
body is repaired and its normal state maintained 
from nervous stimulation. To be, as well as to 
feel and act, requires neural influences. In the 
human personality the nervous system sustains 
the closest relation to the mind, and is the most 
vital portion of the bodily organism. 

The body in every part is constantly undergoing 
change. It will be remembered that growth is not 
an accumulation of organized matter as a perma- 
nent deposit, but in the very process of living there 

213 



MAK-BUiLDIKa 

is molecular disintegration of organic structure. 
That there may be permanency, there must be 
change ; to live is a process of replacement of the 
old with the new. As the stream ceases to be a 
river when the water stops flowing, so the death 
of the body takes the place of life when normal 
change comes to an end. The organic becomes 
inorganic, that the organic may be preserved by a 
continuous process of building. And to the influ- 
ences effecting this tearing down and building 
movement the nervous system is peculiarly sensi- 
tive, and in this performs a distinct ofiice. 

The brain as the medium or instrument of men- 
tal operations is an organ of special interest. 
While the rest of the body undergoes changes de- 
pendent on physical movements, the brain is sub- 
ject also to a law of mental activities. It is con- 
ceded that there are physical equivalents of mental 
forces, that the consumption of brain material is in 
proportion to the energy or volume of mental ac- 
tion through the brain, whether intellectual, emo- 
tional, or volitional. Every movement in thought 
or feeling or willing is accompanied by a corre- 
sponding modification of brain-cells. As brain 
force is used up — represented by devitalization of 
cell material — there must be a corresponding pro- 
duction of brain energy or the tone is lessened. 
This can only be effected by the consumption of 
nutritious food. The brain must be fed or it can- 
not do its work, and if the supply be not main- 

214 



BRAIN FORCES 

tained, mental inefficiency follows. Yet excessive 
eating imposes an undue amount of work on the 
system, putting a strain on the vital forces, and 
to that extent making an overdraft on the brain. 
The mind is dull after a heavy meal because the 
brain must send an extra amount of assistance 
to the stomach to effect digestion. But, on the 
other hand, care must be taken that the brain be 
not robbed by the lack of nutritious food. 

It frequently happens that students in college, by 
practising great economy, ruin their health. Suffi- 
cient food, cooked in a way to be most nutritious, 
is of the first importance. All brain workers need 
to take pains with their diet. Severe manual la- 
bor is trying to the body, but not less exhaustive 
to the system is intense mental work. It makes its 
draft most directly and exclusively on the nerve 
forces, which are fundamental, both to physical 
development and strength ;.nd to mental achieve- 
ments. The man who leads a /rofessional life, or 
handles large business interests, or carries heavy 
responsibilities of any kind, should not fail to sup- 
ply the brain in proper quantity with the nutri- 
ment needed for its highest efficiency. 



215 



MAN-BUILDING 



CHAPTER XLVII 

DEVELOPMENT IN THE FIELD OF THE 
PHYSICAL 

When the human body has reached what we 
designate as maturity it has not, in many respects, 
come to the limit of its development. While the 
bony structure has secured its growth, the mus- 
cles have attained their final length, and the gen- 
eral contour of the body has come to a state of 
relative permanency, modifications may yet take 
place which will have marked influence through 
the years which follow. Our life, physical as well 
as mental, never reaches a fixed quantity. The 
young man at twenty-five years of age who has 
dwelt within a home of ease and luxury, is but a 
tender plant compared with the son of toil. The 
sledge of the blacksmith knots the arm and con- 
verts the muscles almost into ribs of steel. The 
athlete gains power to achieve and endure that fills 
us with amazement. He who is to perform feats 
that require special physical effort must pass 
through consecutive training. The need of this is 
realized in the army, in college sports, in all the 
movements which put unusual strain on the 
muscles. While the arm becomes helpless by non- 
use, it develops extraordinary power by continu- 
ous and vigorous employment. 

216 



PHYSIOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT 

The susceptibility to modification is found in 
almost every part of the body. Thus there is what 
is called physical education. The gait, in walking, 
is acquired. The muscles have been employed in 
a way to establish a special mode in the move- 
ment of the body. While this rests back, per- 
haps, on physical structure, it is largely artificial, 
produced by the character of employment followed, 
or is the result of special training. 

Skill in any branch of industry is not a gift of 
nature but an acquisition through personal train- 
ing. We do not leave nature wholly out of the 
account, but we supplement her powers ; we take 
what she gives us and bring it under control, and 
fashion it according to our needs. In this way we 
gain the ability to perform most delicate opera- 
tions. This holds true in the entire range of the 
arts. With mental conceptions holding up the 
ideal, the hand works out the product sought. It 
acquires facility of operation which becomes a per- 
manent endowment. 

No child writes a beautiful and regular hand at 
first ; and though much depends on the tone of 
the nervous system, yet every individual, by tak- 
ing pains, can work out any form of penmanship 
he desires, and make it natural. Nothing shows 
the pliability of the muscles and their response to 
ideal conceptions more than the accuracy of touch 
of the keys of a musical instrument when the hand 
is not even guided by the eye. Some of our most 



MAN-BUILDING 

skilful pianists are blind. The delicacy and pre- 
cision of movement would be almost beyond belief 
had not our observation established the fact. The 
violinist does not specifically and in detail will the 
vigor of action or the angle of application of force, 
but the hand under general volitions produces in 
succession the exact tones he seeks. 

The human voice yields to the guidance given it 
and there come forth tones of a quality just fitting 
the sentiment uttered. A trained singer, in the 
fulness of expression and in the restraint required, 
charms us as it is impossible for the uncultivated 
voice to do. The skilful elocutionist has gained 
the ability to accomplish two results, first to read 
the actual meaning into the text he renders, and 
second, to modulate the voice in harmony with the 
thought delivered or sentiment expressed. The 
former is mental, the latter is both mental and phys- 
ical. And it is possible for the training to be so 
complete that the voice will perform its work with 
great precision without thinking of the tones which 
should be uttered. 

Some, if not all, of the senses can have their 
acuteness increased. The Indian sharpens the 
sense of hearing by so generally depending on it 
for the information he needs. He puts his ear to 
the ground and detects the approach of the enemy 
though far away and out of sight. Indeed, in his 
savage state, the ear renders him better service 
than any other sense. He has no optical instru- 
cts 



PEESISTENCE OF FORCES 

ments to reveal objects at a distance, sucli as civ- 
ilized people have constructed. Hearing is Ms 
special resort. 

With the blind the nerves of the skin become 
exceedingly sensitive. They gain the ability to 
detect the presence of objects as they approach 
them from the resistance of the air. 

The body should have its training school, but 
not for overtaxing special muscles, of which there 
is danger. There is a development in strength, in 
acuteness of perception, in accuracy of execution 
by the experiences through which we pass. It 
would be well for us to study the law of physiol- 
ogy, and submit to training that will bring out, 
for largest use, the forces implanted in the body. 
Efficiency would be gained, and our physical being 
would become a more complete servant of the 
mind. The body should be kept in health and 
be made responsive to the demands of the soul in 
this complex world of matter and spirit. 



CHAPTEE XLVIII 

PERSISTENCE OF DEVELOPED FORCES 

Theee is a proverb — perhaps not very good 
English — that runs in this wise, "Like parent like 
child." There is much that is mysterious in life, 
nothing more inscrutable than the operation of the 

219 



MAN-BUILDING 

laws of our physical being — involving the mental 
as well. Accepting the tenet that in the origin of 
the family of man there is unity, that Adam and 
Eve were the first pair, and that therefrom has 
come a race in which exists infinite variety, we 
find that we are in a field which it is impossible 
fully to explore. There is every form of diversity 
among human beings, in size from three feet or 
less, up to seven or more feet ; in the same family 
some are tall, others short. The color varies 
from clear white to jet black, with every conceiva- 
ble intermediate shade. With some there is a 
tendency to obesity, while others are but little 
more than a shadow. In features there is every 
possible contour of the face. It is very rare indeed 
that persons look so nearly alike as not to be dis- 
tinguishable. The full-blooded African is not 
more unlike the Caucasian in color than in the 
shape of the nose, the prominence of the lips, and 
the contour of the forehead. The Negro type is a 
marked departure from that of the white race, and 
yet in itself is subject to wide diversity. The same 
principle holds in all races. 

These differences can proximately be traced to 
known causes. Kaces with a black skin have 
their habitat in the tropics. While historical 
proof that the dark color is due to the climate of 
these lands cannot be adduced, as history does 
not go back to the beginning of things, yet two or 
three facts cannot be disregarded. The first we 

' 220 



PEESISTENCE OF FORCES 

mention is that the rays of the sun, especially 
when accompanied by excessive heat, darken the 
skin. The white man who for weeks and months 
lives, on deck, the life of a sailor, receiving as re- 
flections from the water the rays of light and heat 
of the sun in large measure, will have all the ex- 
posed portions of the body darkened. And the 
longer such exposure continues the more set the 
color produced. That the dark color should be- 
come permanent when a race dwells continuously 
in a land of the brightest sunshine and most glow- 
ing heat for thousands of years, with the absence 
of clothing and shelter, especially with habits of 
uncleanness and gross forms of diet, this it is not 
unreasonable to expect. The bestiality of life in 
uncivilized lands is also known to modify the color 
of the skin. The unwholesome and meagre diet of 
the poor in our cities makes its mark upon the 
face in driving away the natural color and the 
healthy expression which good food and correct 
habits produce. 

This philosophy of change may, perhaps, be 
combated by the counter statement that the Ne- 
gro ought to fade when living in a cooler climate. 
But if forces of life are awakened and made a dis- 
tinct physical energy for the production of a dark 
pigment under the skin, does it follow that these 
forces must cease to act as soon as conditions are 
modij&ed ? The difference in climatic power be- 
tween the tropics and cooler latitudes is in degree 

321 



MAN-BUILDING 

only. The forces established may preserve the 
state induced, requiring much less energy than was 
necessary for their development. And yet the 
unKkeness in color may disappear as new con- 
ditions are in operation through a long period of 
time — say, some thousands of years. 

This is a problem that cannot be solved by his- 
torical data, because such data cannot be procured. 
We can as yet only theorize, we cannot demon- 
strate. 

We may now remark that all forces or developed 
conditions tend to fixedness or continuance. In 
our own being we perpetuate that which has been 
produced, especially if distinctly marked ; and it 
is naturally transmitted to our progeny. Modifica- 
tions come under the laws of life affecting all the 
processes of physical energy. A person born with 
club-hands is likely to transmit the deformity to 
his descendants, for a generation or two at least. 
Sporadic cases of the abnormal, being in a sense, 
perhaps, accidental — not growing out of inherited 
structural conditions — may be evanescent, but 
they indicate a modified tone, and may persist to 
some extent. Whether the influences which have 
the power of direction are external or internal, 
they organize great lines or types of the human 
race. 

There are national traits which all observers 
recognize. To say that such a procedure is just 
like the French is not to speak in riddles. The 

233 



PEESISTENCE OF FOECES 

sociological characteristics of the French people, 
on the physical and mental side both, have a 
special distinctive form. "Polite as a French- 
man, impulsive as a Frenchman," is not a drawing 
on the fancy for a comparison, but is the recogni- 
tion of a standard. To rule France is a problem 
quite unlike the swaying of the sceptre of govern- 
ment over the United States. 

The German type is more staid and domestic, 
perhaps plodding, yet persistent. They are a peo- 
ple who can work a lifetime to get to the bottom 
of things. They make good investigators and do 
not weary in perfecting the arts. 

The Americans are cosmopolitan ; we are a 
mixture of all races, and hence the channels are 
not parallel, but flow into each other. Our traits 
are political, not physical or mental. We rep- 
resent all lands and hence not distinctively any 
land. 

The North American Indian is the man of the 
forest. His bow and arrow, or his gun, is his 
companion and means of support. He does not 
build cities, he does not create civilizations, he 
does not develop the resources of the soil. He 
cannot brook restraint. The thousands of years 
in which he has been the hunter in this western 
world have wrought in his soul a love of the chase 
and trained the body for the wild habits so diffi- 
cult to overcome. 

The Negro under the geographical restraints of 
2^3 



MAK-BUILDING 

slavery has become eminently domestic. He has 
had a natural geographical habitat. Imported 
from the warm latitudes of Africa, he is at home in 
our Southern States. He does not take to the 
chase, he does not incline to overrun these lands 
of the North. Had not the horrors, or disabilities 
at least, of slavery driven him from the plantation 
where he had labored, he probably would rarely 
be seen in these northern latitudes. Physically 
and mentally he basks in the sunshine of the 
southland. 

We know the Chinese wherever we see them. 
They belong to a period before the Middle Ages, 
before the beginning of the Christian era. Could 
they be set back thirty centuries in history they 
would be perfectly at home, for they stand to-day 
in the midst of the life and spirit of antiquity. 
Physically distinct from all other peoples, they 
mentally and morally belong to the ages of the 
long ago. 

Something, it thus appears, has broken up the 
race into sub-races, and established physical and 
mental traits along national lines, so that to-day 
the world is far from being a unit. We started 
one, now we are many. But in the many-sided- 
ness of the human we see the susceptibility of the 
man God has made, and the operation of laws 
which point to a future which we can as yet but 
imperfectly understand. And while that which is 
new is constantly developing, it persists as a- 

2^4 



HEBEDITY 

moulding power in the life of the individual and 
the race. 

We will not here study this subject further, as 
it lies on the border line of the sociological. 



CHAPTEK XLIX 

HEREDITY 

The discussions of the preceding chapter natu- 
rally lead us to consider somewhat specifically the 
principles or facts of heredity, which is continually 
introducing new conditions into the midst of the 
permanency it conserves. It would seem that its 
purpose, primarily, was to perpetuate, not over- 
throw; to build up, not to tear down. But as 
everything which comes into our life becomes a 
part of it and exerts an influence over that which 
follows, heredity unceasingly promotes diversity 
conjointly with permanency. The duality of hu- 
man parentage introduces complexity into the 
problem of being. That parents transmit to their 
children the traits of both father and mother, in 
varying degrees, all admit. Often we are able very 
clearly to trace physical characteristics, the features 
of one parent or the other, the complexion, the 
color of the eyes or hair, and the general physio- 
logical appearance, and also mental traits. In the 

225 



MAN-BUILDING 

genesis of life there is traduction. God makes a 
human being through two other human beings and 
along the lines of their physical and mental life. 
And not uncommonly do we find what the parent 
was by the study of the child-life, even better than 
by observing the parent himself, who may hide 
that which is special in his nature. Sometimes 
the traits of each parent are weakened in the child ; 
in other instances some of the traits of one or the 
other are intensified, under some law we do not 
understand. We mention these facts to show the 
complexity of the problem of heredity, and that 
there are depths we have not been able as yet to 
explore. But it is probable that nothing which 
belongs to the past completely drops out of the 
energies which have made the present and will 
make the future. 

There are some very strange things under the 
law of heredity. That which was marked or notice- 
able in the ancestry of one individual may not 
appear again till after two or three generations. 
While usually the child of parents of whom one 
was white and the other black will have an inter- 
mediate color — mulattoes usually are several shades 
off from pure black — yet not unfrequently there 
will follow a generation or two of white children, 
then of black, or the reverse of this order. " To 
the third or fourth generation ! " This would 
seem to show that there are no secrets that can be 
completely hidden ; vice or wrong-doing may any 

226 



HEREDITY 

day come out into the light. God meant that the 
book of a human life should never be permanently 
closed. 

This makes it a very solemn thing to live. The 
deeds do not end with the doer. We cannot live 
to self alone. We cannot escape responsibility to 
the Supreme Being for our acts, and we cannot 
arrest their going on into the generations which 
come after us. It is said that under physical laws 
a word spoken does not stop until the most remote 
star in the heavens is made to vibrate ; and is it 
not true that we are to-day what all the ages of the 
past have made us to be ? 

We inherit both the strength and weakness of 
our ancestry. Many expressions indicate a con- 
viction of the truth of this principle. They say to 
us, " Blood will tell." Such an individual, we are 
told, comes of a line of long-lived men and women, 
and hence we gather the meaning that in this case 
there is strong probability of an extended period 
of life. " The father and grandfather were brainy 
men, how could he be other than brainy? " Such 
a one, we are told, " had a remarkable mother ; 
this solves the problem of his greatness." " The 
blood of the Scotch flows in his veins, he will stand 
by his convictions." 

It may be true, as physicians tell us, that disease 
is not inherited. No child is born, it may be, with 
consumptive germs in his system ; but many are 
born of consumptive parents with a minimum of 

237 



MAN-BUlLDINC 

power to resist consumption. While disease may 
not be transmitted, it is sure to make its ravages. 
Statistics show that a tendency to vice is transmis- 
sible. Out from the brothels and haunts of wicked- 
ness comes forth human life, which, however there- 
after it is carefully isolated from scenes of evil, 
manifests a penchant for gross immorality. To have 
a moral and noble ancestry is a boon of inexpressi- 
ble value ; to have a degraded ancestry is to have 
life rotten at the roots. People hesitate to adopt 
a child into the family without knowledge of its 
parentage. 

How to check the flow of evil that passes along 
the channels of the ages, from generation to gen- 
eration, we do not know. It is a mournful fact 
that much of human life at its appearance seems 
weighted for death. Individuals do not enter 
upon the journey of this earth under equally favor- 
able conditions. Will Christian civilization find, 
and be able successfully to handle, forces which 
will largely neutralize the evils which assault life 
at its beginning ? That the next generation shall 
be pure, we need to be pure. That those who 
follow may have physical health, we need to care 
for our bodies. That the passions shall not tyran- 
nize over our descendants, we need in our own per- 
sons to repress such passions with an iron hand. 
That our children shall not be born unto the world 
ready to start down an inclined plane toward ruin, 
we must develop our own lives up to a state of firm 

228 



IMPAIRING THE ENERGIES OF LIFE 

and steady resistance to every onslaught upon our 
manhood. We draw much of our life from our 
ancestry ; and we shall live in our descendants. 
On us rests a fearful weight of responsibility for 
the world of to-morrow. 



CHAPTEE L 
IMPAIRING THE ENERGIES OF LIFE 

That from ignorance or thoughtlessness there 
should, at times, occur a depression of vital forces, 
a weakening of the tone of the body, need not, per- 
haps, excite surprise. Our attention has been 
called to the exceeding delicacy of the nervous 
system. It is made delicate, because of the deli- 
cacy of the offices it fills. There is no part of the 
body more commonly abused than this. 

It is not strange that life is so brief. Eather is 
it strange that for so long a time it resists the de- 
structive agencies which are made to act upon it. 
Should any machine be handled so recklessly, with 
such slight regard to the laws by which it is gov- 
erned, it would not run a single day. The Creator 
has supplied reparative forces which are always in 
action to restore Avaste and maintain vital energy. 
There is a constant battle going on between de- 
structive forces and constructive energies. Usu- 

229 



MAISr-BUILDIISrG 

ally the latter are not worsted, if ordinary pru- 
dence and foresight are observed. But there is an 
alarming recklessness on the part of many people 
in the treatment of the body, showing an inappre- 
ciation of its functions and needs, or else an almost 
insane surrender to vicious influences. 

The appetite which is provided for the building 
up of the body becomes, perhaps more than any- 
thing else, the means of its downfall. As all the 
operations of our physical and mental nature con- 
sume bodily structure, effecting waste, the com- 
plete destruction of being would soon follow, did 
not new material take the place of that which is 
removed. This material is supplied through the 
stomach, and is sought for and taken as a result of 
nervous craving which we call hunger. It is very 
evident that the consumption of food could not 
safely be left solely to the judgment. We might 
take too much or too little ; take the food when the 
body did not need it, or omit it when the system 
required it. Hence the body is made to report its 
condition, calling for food when it would do good, 
and rejecting it when it would do harm. Not only 
are infants and young children dependent on the 
appetite for guidance — as are also the sick — but 
persons in mature life and in health. In this we 
are like the lower animal kingdom. Impulses have 
been implanted in the body for its healthy normal 
action. 

The appetites are subject to modification in their 

230 



I 



IMPAIRING THE ENEEGIES OF LIFE 

intensity and imperiousness, and somewhat in their 
direction, through the use to which they are put. 
That which is ordinarily mild and submissive may 
become a tyrant. 

There is nothing which displays the abnormal 
and harmful action of appetite more than the use 
of alcoholic stimulants. No other page in human 
history, in any age, is as dark as this. The appe- 
tite for strong drink has wrought havoc in every 
land where these stimulants could be obtained. 
That the body has been at its mercy is a mild 
statement, when we consider the ravages made. 
Inebriety completely sets aside the functions of 
our physical nature, unfitting us for any of the pur- 
poses for which it was created. It lessens indus- 
try, arrests the arts, pauperizes the people, intro- 
duces disease into the system, making loathsome 
that which was intended to be pure and noble. A 
drunkard is physically an object of pity. 

Mentally the havoc wrought is even more lam- 
entable still. The effect of alcohol on the brain 
not only makes unsteady, even paralyzing the 
nerves, but renders the brain incapable of mental 
action. It is more than physical insensibility; 
there is mental incompetency as well. Reason 
vacates her throne, and the blindness of idiocy set- 
tles down upon the spirit. And when insensibility 
does not wholly prevail, usually the entire intel- 
lectual nature is maudlin, is without dignity and 
power. At the same time every impulse of right- 

231 



MAN-BUILDING 

eonsness, every sentiment of honor, all feeling of 
shame, and the sense of personal responsibility are 
parted with. The bond of friendship is sure to be 
broken, love is scattered to the winds, homes are 
demolished, and the fires of hell are kindled in the 
very heart of society. An immense majority of 
crimes comes from the use of strong drink and 
from temporary insanity v/hich, in many cases, be- 
comes permanent delirium, till at last Death steps 
in to claim his victim. The horrors of intemper- 
ance have never been fully written — they go down 
too deep into the life to be put on the page. 

We need not stop to enlarge on this dark sub- 
ject. We remind the reader, however, that there 
is a wide field closely related to the foregoing, but 
with somewhat modified action. Physicians tell us 
that morphine and other narcotics have created an 
appetite almost as baneful — perhaps equally so — 
as the appetite for strong drink. Not only does 
the body come completely under their control, but 
the moral sense is perverted, conscience loses her 
power, insincerity rules the life, truth ceases to be 
sacred, and the very foundations of right give way. 

All admit that tobacco is hurtful to the young. 
The saliva of the mouth is intended to aid the di- 
gestion ; and when from chewing tobacco it is ex- 
pectorated, the stomach is defrauded of what nat- 
ure supplies, and dyspepsia is likely to follow. 
The nicotine set free by combustion in smoking 
is more or less absorbed, and it is a rank poison. 

233 



IMPAIRING THE ENERGIES OF LIFE 

The cigarette is a mixture of tobacco with other 
substances, usually to a considerable extent injuri- 
ous. This, young persons seem to prefer, and 
there is no difference of opinion as to deleterious 
effects. 

Though the nerves of adults have greater power 
of resistance and are less sensitive to harmful in- 
fluences than those of the young, yet in the use of 
tobacco in any form there is a departure from the 
higher methods of physical action and life. The 
stimulation of the nerves should come through the 
processes of nutrition, not outside of these proc- 
esses in the form of artificial excitement. That 
which is permanent must have its source in the 
constructive operations of the body itself. To 
deaden the nerves, as in the use of tobacco, is an 
interference with that which nature has provided, 
and creates an artificial life. God's plan is better 
than any departure along the line of personal 
indulgence. 

All appetites need most rigid control. They 
serve valuable ends when they are not allowed to 
assume the mastery. They bring ruin and death 
when the reins of power are in their hands. There 
are inclinations which, unduly pampered, become 
passions ; and they may rage to the complete over- 
throw of reason, the entire debasement of the hu- 
man. That which takes its rise in the body and 
can touch the mental life, should be most carefully 
watched. He that is wise keeps his body under. 

233 



MAN-BUILDING 



CHAPTEE LI 

INTERACTION OF MIND AND BODY IN THE 
SPHERE OF MORALS 

Is the problem of the moral life a problem of 
mind or body, or both ? Profane language is an 
utterance of the lips, and is sometimes employed 
without any mental intent. But we call it im- 
moral. A drink of alcoholic stimulants may be 
taken purely to steady the nerves with no purpose 
to produce mental results, and we raise the ques- 
tion of morals. The imagination sweeps out into 
the field of vice, and lovingly pictures vicious 
scenes, while neither hand nor foot is raised to en- 
ter into these scenes; yet an exposure of these 
thoughts would redden the face with shame. A 
plan is formed to commit a wrong against society, 
but fear of detection prevents the execution of the 
purpose. Is the person guilty or not guilty of im- 
morality ? 

That is moral in which there is no guilt ; that is 
immoral in which there is guilt, in which there is 
that which violates some law intended for the 
guidance of our lives. Morality embraces the 
purity and right action of the body, and the right 
purposes and right action of the soul. 

That the moral does not wholly resolve itself into 
a physical fact is very plain. Is homicide wrong, 

234 



MIND AND BODY IN MOEALS 

is it a crime ? No, you say, when in fighting for 
your country you slay your enemy in battle ; no, 
you say, when it is committed in defence of your 
own life ; no, you say, when it was an accident you 
could not prevent. Yes, you say, when it was 
malicious ; yes, when the purpose was to avenge 
some wrong ; yes, when an accident in which due 
caution was not observed. Is it wrong to associ- 
ate with the lower classes ? Yes, when done by 
choice, from sympathy with their spirit, when the 
life commingles with their life. No, when it is not 
their companionship you seek to enjoy, but comes 
from a purpose to reform and lift up the fallen. A 
woman may be at the Five Points because she is 
base, or she may be there because she is pure and 
wishes to make others pure. 

But in the moral character there is involved 
largely both body and mind. Each participates in 
the activities of the other. It is plain that an ex- 
cessive use of stimulants debases the thoughts and 
corrupts the imagination. Should it be said that 
this is due to a deranged condition of the nervous 
system, which may be characterized as a disease ; 
that the cause is physical and the effect is physi- 
cal; it must yet be remembered that brain-cells 
take part in all movements of the life. The body 
reaches the mind through these cells, and the mind 
reacts on the body through the same medium. 
And we are considering results, not simply the 
philosophy of being. Every physical state tells on 

235 



MAN-BUILDING 

character. Why does the Bible forbid profanity ? 
Because thought and spirit are crystallized in the 
words, and through the words they sink into the 
soul. All forms of appetite and the passions, 
whatever they may be, have their lodgement in 
and spring from the body. They do not hide 
away, and work separately from the soul, but they 
stimulate thoughts and put wings on the imagina- 
tion and mould the spirit. The vile words which 
fall on the outer ear go down into the depths of 
the inner life. The ribald song is much more than 
the breath of the lips — it is a power penetrating 
the very citadel of character, and becomes a part of 
the being. 

Polished manners are morally wholesome. Cor- 
rect outward demeanor is a restraint on immoral- 
ity. Boorish ways create a boorish spirit. To 
look upon a slugging match is an education for 
vice. Nothing produces heartlessness more than 
the public execution of criminals. Familiarity 
with scenes of vice breeds vice. Vicious practices 
instil poison into the soul. Vice of every form 
debases the whole inner being. The passions have 
their roots in the physical organism, and their in- 
dulgence, while making their tyranny over the body 
more absolute, binds the chains of slavery more 
completely around the spirit. 

Nothing is more wonderful than the response of 
the physical nature to the excitations of the men- 
tal. Not only in knowledge does thought find its 

336 



MIND AND BODY IN MOEALS 

object largely in material things, but in the world 
of morals the inner is realized through the outer. 
Physical action is both the counterpart and the 
product of the conceptions and feelings. Anger 
takes hold upon the voice, causes the heart to 
beat with violence, and the blood to flow through 
the arteries and veins like a whirlwind of flame. 
Moral impurity is physical because it is first men- 
tal. Adultery is the longing look, the Saviour 
tells us. Out of the heart proceed, not only evil 
thoughts, but because evil thoughts are engendered 
there are " murders, adulteries, fornication and all 
uncleanness." The body is consumed with lust 
because the imagination runs wild. He who keeps 
his thoughts pure, will keep his body pure. To 
read a vile book is to plunge the body into a mael- 
strom of pollution ; but the mental association with 
that which is pure and wholesome in literature is 
the keeping of poison out of our physical being, is 
the making of it a holy temple of a stainless soul. 

The responsiveness of the soul and body in the 
domain of morals is a law of our nature, in which 
are consequences of the greatest moment. The 
soul can be corrupted by the body, and the body 
by the soul. An assault on the correct life of the 
body is an assault on the spirit. 

Of what, then, does immorality consist ? What 
and where is the sphere of the moral life ? The 
moral quality of an act, we are told, inheres in the 
intention or motive — in the mental state prompt- 

237 



MAN-BTTILDIlSrG 

ing it— and yet the effect may be harmful though 
the purpose be good, or the result be beneficial 
though the intention be evil. The motive may 
have a mental origin, or take its rise from a physi- 
cal state. , Envy, jealousy, destructive ambitions 
spring into existence from purely mental concep- 
tions, but they may lead to ibodily acts in the 
highest degree reprehensible — to the slander of 
the tongue, or to physical harm maliciously in- 
flicted. Out from the principles held, or the spirit 
within, there are sure to flow bodily activities 
which show the state of the heart, good or bad, 
and which are the living out in conduct of the 
moral forces at work in the soul. On the other 
hand, that which is outward, starting in correct 
deeds, or in the appetites, the passions, the physi- 
cal habits, in the scenes and associations in soci- 
ety, finds its way into the soul to inspire ennobling 
sentiments on the one hand, or to corrupt the very 
fountain of character on the other. The bodily 
energies are turned into channels, right or wrong, 
by the mind ; and the mind in turn is wrought upon 
by the physical activities, and made to be more 
or less pure or impure. The outer and the inner 
forces continually react on each other. For cor- 
rect bodily activity there need to be rational and 
stainless mental conditions ; and to keep the mind 
pure, the body must be kept pure. The soul and 
the body constitute a unit in the moral sphere 
which can never be dissevered. 

238 



PART THIRD 

SOCIOLOGICAL 



CHAPTEB LII 

COMMUNITY LIFE 

Man is an individual, but much more than an 
individual. He is a related, dependent, and co- 
operative individual. He is an integral constitu- 
ent of a race unit. Any definition of a human 
being, or treatment of his powers and life, which 
does not connect him with the race, which does 
not include a race factor, is radically incomplete. 
In our being we are joined with others, with 
all others. Disregarding this fact, our nature is as 
imperfectly understood as would be that of a tooth 
in the hands of a chemist — from chemical analysis 
alone — not taking into account its place and office 
in the mouth, the plan of being of which it is a 
part, the purpose which it was intended and fitted 
to serve in the entire animal economy. A tooth is 
more than a piece of ivory, and a human being is 
more than an individual. 

And the law of succession for continuance of the 
race does not embrace the whole problem. It is 
true that life must be traced back to Adam in an 
unbroken line, and that in him is found the root- 
germ of all nations and tribes, so that there is 

241 



MAN-BUILDING 

blood relationship throughout the entire human 
family. But this is not all. In the completeness 
of our life, in what we receive and what we supply, 
the multitude about us must be considered. In no 
other way can we determine what we were intended 
to be. In the community of being of which we are a 
part we are different from what we otherwise would 
be, and much more than we otherwise could be, in 
an entirely separate physical and mental existence. 
We shall in a subsequent chapter invite your at- 
tention to the fact that in the great world of in- 
dustry the millions are toiling for us. We shall 
see that because of the unlikeness of climate and 
diversities of tastes and talents, productions are 
placed within our reach, which, from personal effort 
alone, we could not create. For our physical good, 
the oceans in commerce unite, instead of separat- 
ing, the continents ; and the arts bring us in touch 
with each other. Months have shrunk into weeks 
and days, and the thousands of miles have con- 
tracted to a narrow span in the interdealings of 
men. 

The life that is given us has its purpose in the 
multitudes of people by which we are surrounded. 
He who does not contribute to the well-being of 
the human family, both loses his opportunity and 
neglects his duty. He can scarcely justify his 
right to a place on the earth. Only as he brings 
something of power rightly used ; only as he pours 
something of riches into the lap of society, is he 

243 



COMMUKITY LIFE 

fulfilling a diyine purpose. To live in one's self is 
scarcely to live at all ; for self that does not dis- 
perse to others for their good, is but little more than 
a mathematical point, it has no breadth of being. 

To become great and worthy, to reach a high 
plane of character, there must be community life. 
Isolation is death. The world is supplied as a 
sphere for the employment of our better powers, 
and that for our benefit. He who never pities, 
who never sympathizes, who is never philan- 
thropic ; who cherishes no friendships, who never 
stretches out his hand to relieve suffering, who 
never loves, whose whole being is self-centred, if 
not a nonentity, is surely destitute of every virtue. 
But how can there be sympathy, and friendship, 
and love, if the life be isolated from others ? To 
give us, therefore, a sphere for the fullest and rich- 
est life, that we may grow up into that which is 
noblest and most heavenly, we are put in the 
midst of associations with other human beings. 
To absorb all is to shrivel our nature ; we enlarge 
only by giving. 

The field of our action, therefore, is the world, 
not the continental masses ; not this terrestrial 
sphere simply for development, in large measure, 
or production of material things. Though busi- 
ness is involved, compelling labor — making indus- 
try a necessity — yet a demand is made on us in 
the higher realm of human forces. There is no 
ground for the supposition that heaven is a sphere 

243 



MAISr-BXTILDING 

of inaction. To supply no employments it would 
be wholly unprogressive. In the absence of inter- 
dependence, with no occasion for mutual service, 
the heart would part with its most divine forces. 
God is love, and in His self-sacrificing love for the 
race, Christ takes hold of man and controls his des- 
tiny in the giving of Himself to us. There is but 
one way to grow and become mighty, and that is 
to care and work for others. Isolated individu- 
ality would rob us of the only possible sphere of 
development. And while the Supreme Being has 
intended that we should help our fellow-men, He 
has thus provided for the largest unfolding of our 
powers, the most complete fulness of humanity in 
us. Our being is linked with others. In a thou- 
sand ways, and all for our good, we are mutually 
dependent. Manhood is individuality organized 
into a universal community life ; still preserving 
the individual, and perfecting it through relation- 
ship with the many. 



CHAPTER LIII 

MARRIAGE 

"It is not good for man to be alone." Mar- 
riage is of divine appointment. It is a provision 
for successive and perpetual human life. But 
its purpose reaches much farther than this; it 

244 



MAMIAGE 

looks to the enrichment of our being, the develop- 
ment of the purest and most elevating forces of the 
soul. 

The greatest danger which man encounters is 
that of imperious selfishness. The strength of 
personality may be said to be in proportion to the 
might of the will ; yet it ought not to follow that 
the end be selfish in order to have the power most 
effective. The executive energy of our nature is 
an inner power capable of being turned in many 
different directions. The use to which the will 
shall be put is not less important than the extent 
of the energy at command. 

The greatest problem in the ordaining of human 
life is the harmonizing of will- action. There is 
decided liability of incessant conflict. This is 
sure to prevail if life is pure individualism. It 
can be prevented only by the creation of society 
in which there is coalescence through some bond 
of common interests. This begins in marriage. 
It contains the first and most fundamental social 
force in the community of the race. It starts in 
mutual affection, which includes a predisposition 
to render service, to will and act for the good 
of another. There is a potency of self-surrender 
in friendship. It is not difficult to perform acts 
of kindness to friends, and when the sentiment is 
deepened into love it carries with it an impulse 
to make other than self the object and plans of our 
good deeds. 

245 



MAN-BUILDING 

Marriage was instituted as a provision for edu- 
cation in the most vital principles of our being. 
God desired to people this earth with intelligences 
who would co-operate with each other in achiev- 
ing great things. To establish responsibility, from 
which there could be no escape, he made life in- 
dividual as to powers ; and in the fact of individ- 
ualism there are incentives to action. Thus there 
were created innumerable centres of ambition in 
which the spirit of effort was sure to be stirred. 
But if the plan be not carried beyond individual- 
ism there will not only be lacking coalescence of 
effort and results, but there will be antagonisms 
culminating in destructive warrings. Agreement 
of human wills is an indispensable requisite to 
general society. Therefore at its very source the 
Creator invests life with influences to tone down 
its acerbities and supplant its selfishness with a 
holy and ennobling altruism by means of the deep 
love which leads to marriage, and abides through 
the years that follow. This is the initial force in 
God's sociological plan of government. Even if 
the race could be perpetuated without marriage, 
confusion would everywhere prevail, and we could 
not conceive it possible for civil government to ex- 
ist. There would be anarchy, with no conserving 
or pacifying power. 

Again we must remind the reader that life never 
becomes great without a conviction of personal 
duties. No human being rises to heights of gran- 

246 



MAERIAGE 

deur to whom there has not come a clear con- 
sciousness and profound feeling of obligation to 
his fellow-men ; and from marriage comes a scope 
of practical responsibility the most nearly universal 
of all the relations we sustain to each other. The 
bond between husband and wife involves a mutual 
surrender which entails duties which cannot be 
honorably or safely set aside. Each is intended 
to be the centre of the other's thought, the object of 
the other's care and life. To the extent that all 
of this is actually realized, there is developed the 
foundation of the best social condition of which 
we have any knowledge. The bachelor state is 
incomplete manhood or womanhood. In marriage 
responsibility and love act together to establish 
the best conditions of our nature, to enrich the 
human soul. 

Marriage is the antecedent condition of the 
family. "God setteth the solitary in families." 
As dependent on the home, consisting of wife and 
children, there are special interests which must be 
cared for requiring regular and systematic activity. 
The physical wants of the home must be supplied. 
In this we have the ground, if indeed it be not 
the initial, of material industry. The great world of 
business has its inspiration not deeply in individ- 
ual wants but in the love that is felt for the family, 
and the need for their financial support. Without 
this, every avenue of industry would be practically 
closed, at least the strongest inducement to labor 

247 



MAN-BUILDING 

would cease to exist. Work is primarily a family 
problem. Inactivity is sure to prevail unless there 
be a motive for labor, and the most universal motive, 
and with most persons the strongest motive, is the 
support and comfort of the home. The labor of 
the hands, the employment of mental energy in 
the planning of industries, in the building up of 
the arts, in larger or smaller enterprises for the 
creation of capital, in the inventions made, spring 
principally from the divine relation found in the 
home circle. The world of industry, as a uni- 
versal movement, would almost perish were the 
responsibilities and affections which spring from 
the fireside eliminated from the problem of life. 

Human affections, like every other force in our 
nature, must have employment to become a posi- 
tive quantity. That tender feelings may be aroused 
there must be relations to call them into existence. 
Love grows to its fulness in the mother's heart as 
the infant child lies in maternal arms, and the 
watch-care over the susceptible years of the new 
life is a constant and solicitous experience. There 
is a proverb " that blood is thicker than water." 
The father feels toward his offspring as he cannot 
toward any other. The home soil is the richest 
for the production of all that is kind and human 
in the soul. That the divine ideal of manhood 
and womanhood might come nearest to being 
realized, childhood is made the object, universally, 
of support, of training, of beneficence, coupled 

248 



MAKRIAGE 

with a feeling of loving responsibility to rear the 
young life for happiness and perfection of being. 
To be the father or mother of a family is to live 
in a school of personal culture, providing oppor- 
tunities for self-training found nowhere else. 

Marriage works out the following results. It 
stimulates and sustains industry, as we have said, 
through which needed capital is developed and 
morality conserved. It calls out and intensifies 
the affections, giving to humanity more of heart, 
and hence a purer life. It supplies companion- 
ship through which the demands of our social 
nature are met. In proportion to the purity and 
depth of love selfishness is restrained or displaced, 
and mutual beneficence developed and practised. 

All of this is not realized in every home, and 
when it fails to be realized the fault is not in the 
institution of marriage but in the perversity of 
the human heart. Sometimes there is such a de- 
cided incompatibility in temperaments and mental 
tastes that divergence rather than coalescence fol- 
lows the union which marriage establishes. In 
other cases there is hard-heartedness instead of 
tender emotions, cruelty which vents itself when 
affection should ensure the largest outpouring of 
kindness. While in the married state there should 
be the deepest love, there may be the torments of 
hell itself. Love turned to hate is tenfold more 
bitter than when it has started from a neutral 
plane, 

S49 



MAN-BUILDING 

So potent for good or evil is the marriage re- 
lation, it should be entered into only with the 
fullest knowledge of character and disposition by 
each of the parties ; yet there is nothing else so 
heedlessly assumed as this. The passions do not 
count the cost, and love is blind. While it is 
base to marry without the emotional, reason should 
still keep her hand on the helm. Love should not 
usurp the place of sight, but should rather enforce 
the decrees the judgment has wisely issued. Be 
thoughtful in choosing a life companion is advice 
that should not be needed, yet it is too little re- 
garded. Not cold and calculating but with feel- 
ings of deepest interest, do not close your eyes to 
facts of character, of disposition, or any personal 
traits. Marriage is not likely to correct evils. 
Accept no promise made previous to marriage of 
change of habits after marriage. He who adheres 
to vicious habits during courtship will not aban- 
don them after courtship is over and marriage has 
been consummated. 

Affection cannot be preserved between husband 
and wife when either is careless of the feelings of 
the other. This fact is too commonly disregarded. 
Happiness can be retained only as the spirit of 
courtship is retained after the marriage bond has 
been imposed. A woman is as much a person, 
with individual feelings, after marriage as before. 
Inattention, personal slights, the lack of courtesy, 
wound not less certainly than previous to the 

250 



CHILDHOOD 

union effected. He is an unworthy husband who 
treats his wife with less deference than other 
women whom he meets in social life. A harsh 
word, a depreciating word, the failure to show a 
recognition of kindly acts done, is full of poison. 
And the wife who is insensible to the struggles 
through which her husband passes in his business; 
who treats him coolly when he returns to his home 
at night ; who saves her smiles for others, whether 
men or women, is sowing seed that will become 
thistles in her pathway in after years. There are 
many women who prize their husband's business 
efforts only as they afford means for personal 
adornment or indulgence. Such fruit is sure to 
turn to ashes. Mutual confidence, mutual appre- 
ciation, and mutual helpfulness will bring a per- 
petual harvest of joy ; but neglect — selfish inatten- 
tion — is certain to blight the harvest which should 
be a constant delight to the soul. 



CHAPTEE LIV 

CHILDHOOD 

Infancy is mental vacuity. Human life makes 
its appearance wholly destitute of intellectual con- 
tent. And not only is there the absence of all 
knowledge, but also of the power of knowing. 

251 



MAN-BUILDING 

Mind potentiality is a substantial foundation of 
powers and ideas, but at first there are neither 
ideas nor powers. Both must be wrought out to 
the actual from a fundamental provision made 
therefor. This we have alread}^ discussed. 

The life of the infant looking toward the future 
is wholly in the hands of another. Alone, he 
perishes ; to live or develop he must be cared for 
and guided by some life not his own. It is a 
problem in sociology. 

The function of childhood is growth. In this it 
fulfils its mission. To be is not the end of ex- 
istence ; in its purpose there must be the realiza- 
tion of good through development of energies with 
which we are potentially endowed. To secure this 
the beginnings of life are committed to those who 
feel the greatest solicitude for the child's well- 
being. 

It is the natural office of the parent to provide 
for all the wants of the child. That the physical 
needs are thus to be supplied, everybody knows. 
There is no civilization so low, no condition so 
debased, as to lose sight of this as a common duty. 
And that it be not neglected there is a parental 
instinct impelling to the discharge of this sacred 
trust. He is an unnatural parent who does not 
supply the child with shelter, food, clothing, and 
every physical comfort, that health and strength 
be secured. 

But matured bodily powers are by no means the 

253 



CHILDHOOD 

totality of good. There are interests of greater 
moment than these. Nothing is so marked in 
child -life as the feebleness of its beginnings. 
Physically without the least power to help itself 
it is also destitute of even the slightest mental 
capability to provide for its wants. This is fol- 
lowed by what may seem to be an extraordinarily 
long period of mental and physical immaturity. 
Is this a calamity ? Would we be better off if the 
feebleness of our early days were more rapidly 
overcome ? In considering this question we must 
keep before us the fact that in the harmony of 
the body and mind the latter is the chief part of 
our being, and that the former is of special value 
only as used and guided by the latter. The prob- 
lem of development, therefore, to which all else is 
subordinate, is the growth of the mental, and its 
training for the best and highest destiny. 

The securing of this result depends on the wis- 
dom which others can supply. Could the new- 
born being rush into business and take upon itself 
responsibilities with a period of preparation no 
longer than the horse requires to gain its full 
strength, life would certainly be a failure. Man- 
hood means immeasurably more than the matured 
life of the animal. Bodily he is capable of filling 
a far higher sphere. To gain the skill in the 
various arts to which so many have attained, there 
is needed a long period of bodily plasticity, a plas- 
ticity which continues during the first score of 
853 



MAN-BUILDING 

years, or more. This, for instance, is the most 
favorable time to practise penmanship, to acquire 
piano technique, to lay the foundation of manual 
skill in any of the fine arts, and for all delicate 
execution on the higher plane of industry. To 
shorten the time from birth to manhood to five, or 
even ten years, would physically restrict the powers 
we possess, would bring the race down to a much 
lower level than it is now capable of occupying. 
It is evidently true also that the brain is more 
responsive to mental impressions in youth than 
in after years. To defer the entering upon student 
life until in the twenties or thirties is not only a 
loss of time but the sacrifice of power. The child 
can learn to read more quickly than the man of 
fifty. We say to the boy, begin the study of Latin 
now, do not wait till you are a man. Under fifteen 
is a much more favorable time than after twenty- 
five. There is this brain plasticity in childhood 
and youth which subsequent years do not possess, 
for the making of nice distinctions; for gaining a 
knowledge of words ; for rapidly extending one's 
vocabulary; for securing impressions which do 
not easily fade from the memory. Youth is the 
heyday of teaching for him who looks for the 
largest results in the training for intellectual 
manhood. 

No one will dispute the proposition that the 
mental and moral powers of life are of supreme 
importance. To occupy an exalted position in 

254 



CHILDHOOD 

the world ; to possess qualifications by which ser- 
vice may be rendered to society and the state so 
as to contribute to the triumph of right and the 
well-being of humanity, this is the most important 
of all. In creating the individual and subjecting 
him to the conditions which exist among men, 
making him a constituent of the race, God intended 
him to fit into society for his own, and society's 
good. With this end in view he has made child- 
hood and youth an apprenticeship for the public, 
to gain a training for citizenship, to acquire a char- 
acter that will contribute something to the har- 
mony of the community and the stability of the 
state. Hence at the first the child is put under 
authority. The lesson of subjection is one of the 
first lessons to be learned. He is not at liberty to 
proceed as though free from allegiance to others. 
When he grows to be a man he will find that the 
country possesses statehood ; that people are or- 
ganized under governments; that government 
means power maintained by law, and that every 
citizen is subject to law which exacts obedience. 

The first experience of the child is that of sub- 
jection to the complete control of another. The 
word of the mother, the command of the father, is 
absolute. For years there is no ground of con- 
troversy. For a time there is no explanation of 
the orders given. Submission must follow, even 
though it be a sore trial. After a time explana- 
tions may accompany the requirements, but with- 

255 



MAN-BUILDING 

out a surrender of the right of control. The thing 
most needful for the child is that the will shall not 
be lawless, that it shall gain the habit of doing 
what is rightfully demanded. We speak of it as 
a habit of submission to legitimate and rational 
jurisdiction. This being established, it has become 
natural to be a law-abiding citizen. Unrestrained 
recklessness in childhood and youth makes crimi- 
nals in after years. Juvenile ojffenders consist 
largely of those who have no homes, or, if homes, 
such as are vicious and lawless. The start crime- 
ward during impressionable years eventuates in 
confirmed law-breaking as time passes by. 

There is nothing so fortunate for a child as to 
belong to a wise and loving home. We employ 
the word " loving," for no home is wise that is not 
loving. To crush the will of a child by cruelty 
may secure obedience, but in the overthrow of in- 
cipient manhood the groundwork of a noble life is 
destroyed. The divine plan is that control should 
be suffused with a loving interest in the subject 
under control. Hence parental supervision was 
ordained as provided for by marriage and result- 
ing family life. The innumerable centres of family 
life throughout the country or the world, in which 
submission to law is taught and enforced, prepare 
the way for harmonious statehood as a feasible 
and permanent institution. Government thus is 
effective in the conservation and prevalence of 
needed authority. 

256 



CHILDHOOB 

Childhood is the crucial period of life ; though 
so largely dependent on others, in it destinies are 
determined. Nothing has been more truthfully 
said than that " the child is father of the man." 
And young life is what the parent makes it to be, 
or permits it to be. Native talents and tempera- 
ment are inherited, but what shall come from these 
is largely determined by the associations, the 
spirit and movements of the home. The mother 
who for years commits the destiny of her child 
to a nurse, exercising no personal oversight, sins 
against both nature and Providence ; she is dere- 
lict in the discharge of her first and greatest re- 
sponsibilities. The father who is too busy to 
mingle with his family ; too engrossed to fondle 
childhood and give attention to questions that 
arise in the minds of the youth of his household, 
neglects the highest privileges that can come to 
him, and fails to perform his most sacred duties. 
To accumulate money, to gain political distinction, 
to enjoy the associations of club-life, to pursue the 
leadings of ambition in any form, cannot be a suf- 
ficient reason for failing to come into the closest 
relations with the childhood of the home. And 
the mother who cares more for fashionable society 
than the companionship of her children, lives un- 
der the sway of perverted powers, and can never 
attain to the highest purpose of her being. God 
meant that in every way the parent should be a 
blessing to the child, and the child hence a com- 

257 



MAIST-BUILDIXG 

fort and blessing to the parent. The good may 
and should be reciprocal. Innate capabilities are 
brought out into results under the sociological in- 
fluences which encompass the life of the child. 



CHAPTEE LV 

SCHOOL-TRAINING 

In all civilized lands we find organized pi:ovi- 
sion for instruction of childhood and youth. Only 
to a very limited extent can training in scholar- 
ship be prosecuted as a part of family life. The 
time of the father is consumed in labor to provide 
means of support, and to the mother come the ex- 
acting cares of the household, leaving but little 
opportunity for systematic guidance in mental 
pursuits. And both in scholarship and in skill 
for imparting instruction there is nearly universal 
incompetence among parents for the work of su- 
pervising the studies of their children beyond that 
which is strictly elementary. For advanced schol- 
arship, for progressive civilization, processes of 
education must be carried forward outside of the 
home, and by agencies which the home does not 
supply. So important is this, that the people re- 
gard it as a function of statehood to set in opera- 
tion means for the education of the young. 

258 



SCHOOL-TEAINma 

In this country we have a state system which we 
call the public schools, containing, in many of the 
commonwealths, a mandatory requirement of at- 
tendance. We have a right to institute these 
schools and put the young in them because, with- 
out intelligence, a free and stable government is an 
impossibility. Not only is it cheaper to educate 
the people than to defend the public against the 
evils of general ignorance ; but the state would be 
derelict did she not provide for intelligent citizen- 
ship so as to secure prosperity and perpetuity. 
It is not drawing on the imagination to say that 
the common schools are the corner-stone of our 
republic. Whatever else we give up these must 
not be surrendered for any reason whatever. In 
considering the social forces which operate on the 
individual, and through the individual shape the 
destiny of the nation, a large place must be given 
to public education. 

But if it could be done, would it not be better to 
educate each child alone instead of massing the 
young in schools? This question may not be 
passed by without thoughtful consideration. It is 
true that different young persons because of un- 
likeness of tastes, of talents, and of temperament, 
need different treatment. School - methods are 
defective so far as all are handled in disregard of 
these primary diversities. The wise parent studies 
the peculiarities of his children and varies his 
methods of government accordingly. There is 

259 



MAK-BtlLDING 

danger that individual traits shall fail to be noted 
or given their full weight in our schools. The 
teacher who does not appreciate these personal 
elements, or does not seek to adapt his methods 
to special needs, should not be in the school-room. 
And it is not desirable that all child-life be re- 
duced to the same dead level. To the extent — and 
we think there is this tendency — that the public- 
school procedure secures this uniform condition, 
it is productive of harm. One young person enters 
the school with a livelier imagination than another ; 
some are able to grasp the abstract principles of 
mathematics far above the average of the pupils ; 
while there are those who link their thoughts to- 
gether in logical relations, with whom learning 
and thinking must be on the line of antecedence 
and sequence. He who fashions the human mind 
has made each for a special purpose, for which 
purpose he should be trained. At the close of 
school-days they should all come forth with intel- 
lectual peculiarities not less marked than at the 
beginning. Life should be built up according to 
the forces which nature supplies. 

Conceding the foregoing, and emphasizing, 
indeed, the foregoing, it yet would be a calamity, 
for sociological reasons, to disband the schools and 
substitute individualism therefor. The observa- 
tions of the writer correspond, we believe, with 
those of other teachers, that the work done in Vi^- 
cation, making up work alone, is seldom, if ever, 

260 



gCHOOL-TEAINING 

as broad and thorough as the actual class work. 
This is true even when pursuing somewhat ad- 
vanced studies, after the student has had con- 
siderable class drill, and has reached a plane of 
high mental discipline. On a lower plane the 
work is sure to be very poorly done. The reasons 
are apparent. With a proper freedom of instruc- 
tion in a class of a score of persons, many inquiries 
will be started by one and another, which would 
not arise to the mind of the individual alone. 
This broadens the subject under consideration, it 
leads to discussion, it widens the range of instruc- 
tion, it therefore results in more complete scholar- 
ship. A comparison of views in the class corrects 
errors, secures accuracy, and leads to a fuller 
understanding of the theme engaging attention. 
Thus the knowledge of each comes to be nearly 
equal to the knowledge of the whole class. 

In private study there is lacking, also, another 
important factor, the expressing in words the truths 
apprehended. The effort to formulate principles 
or state facts clarifies the mental vision, gives a 
consciousness of ignorance so far as it exists, in- 
tensifies the gaze, and hence supplies a more com- 
plete mastery over the subject. Scarcely less val- 
uable than the instruction of the teacher is the 
recitation by the pupil when he persists till he 
has made a satisfactory presentation of the truth 
he is handling. We have seen marked defects in 
college in the mental workings of students who 

261 



Man-building 

made their preparation at home. Largely they 
showed a lack of power for free and accurate state- 
ment in connection with which there is more or 
less inaccuracy of knowledge. Bat after a student 
has passed through college and enjoyed the ad- 
vantage of daily discussion ; after he has laid the 
foundation for scholarship of a high grade by this 
rational method, he is supposed to have acquired 
a habit of exhaustive study as a preparation for in- 
dividual research in the profession or vocation in 
which alone he must carve out his destiny. He 
should then be able to do personal work and use 
his acquisitions to the best advantage in the great 
battle of life as he measures arms with others. 

Another fact that may be mentioned in this con- 
nection has considerable force. In the putting 
forth of effort we are influenced by the presence 
and observation of others. Paul appeals to this 
principle as a stimulating energy in the religious 
life when he says, " Seeing we are compassed about 
with so great a cloud of witnesses — let us run with 
patience the race that is set before us." There 
is inspiration coming from the gaze of others. 
Whether the love of approbation leads us or the 
dread of disapprobation drives us, we do our best 
when in the eye of the public. We prize the good 
opinion of others. Most students do not like to 
fail in the presence of the class. If this feeling 
does not secure study, nothing will. 

The period of school-days is potent in determin- 

262 



SCHOOL-TEAIIsriNGl- 

ing character and deciding destinies. It is the 
time when youth moves on toward manhood, when 
foundations are laid for the future ; when habits 
are gained which are likely to be perpetual. It is 
the seed-time which is sure to be followed by a 
harvest. Thorough mental cultivation brings a 
harvest both valuable and abundant. Wasted 
hours are followed by meagre results. In man- 
building this is the period around which gather 
our most important and vital interests. Trends 
are established along which we move to success 
or failure. 

Two things are worthy of special mention. One 
is, that the interests of the public demand that 
much pains be taken to give to our schools, whether 
under control of the State, the Church, or of pri- 
vate parties, the highest grade of merit. Every- 
thing else, almost, should be made secondary to 
this. The young are a priceless heritage of life. 
It is not railroads, manufactories, and vast landed 
estates that make a nation, but the men and women. 
Civilization is a problem of brains and character, 
not of dollars and cents. Our supreme duty is to 
care for our children. The best of teachers — men 
and women of scholarship, irreproachable morals, 
and love for the young — should be employed, even 
though school-taxes must be increased. School- 
work is leadership more than didactic teaching. 
And with intellectual qualities of a high grade, 
and scholarship in which there is a mastery of the 

2G3 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

branches taught, there is needed also a purity and 
nobility of life that the teacher may win the pupils 
into paths of virtue and noble living. It is asking 
much to require that the parent put his son or 
daughter under the daily supervision and influence 
of someone outside of the family, where impres- 
sions are sure to be made that will affect the char- 
acter through all future time. 

The other point to which attention should be 
called is the need of appreciation, on the part of 
the pupil, of the privileges enjoyed. The value of 
the benefits of study is not so easily discerned as 
of material rewards. At that age a hundred dol- 
lars seems larger than the benefits of a school- 
year. Knowledge is impalpable ; the bearing of 
school-days on future good does not stand out so 
plainly to the sight as do farms, merchandise, iind 
bank-stocks gained by labor. School-v/ork, there- 
fore, often seems a hardship, without definite re- 
ward, and the hours are frequently spent in list- 
lessness, no achievements being made. Hence with 
wasted years manhood does not become a grand 
possession of power. Choosing the most intelli- 
gent and moral associations in the school, and 
bending the mind to the task of mastering the 
subjects of study, realizing how much the future 
must be the product of the present, the passing 
years will bring forth wonderful fruitage of good. 
School-training is a large factor in man-building. 



264 



EDUCATION BY CONTACT 

CHAPTEE LVI 
EDUCATION BY CONTACT 

It is not easy, if, indeed, it is ever possible, to 
trace the education of the life to all the sources 
from which it comes. The threads of influence 
are innumerable, and they are so intertwined that 
they cannot be unravelled. The schools have not 
a monopoly of educational work. They are a 
special agency for the promotion of what we tech- 
nically call scholarship ; but outside of them, as 
well as within them, there are trains of influences 
which specially affect the mental life and direct 
its powers. Society, using the word as standing 
for human beings in direct and practical relations 
with each other, is itself a universal school of 
which organized provision for teaching the young 
is but a small part. There are a thousand ways 
of gaining information, a thousand subjects en- 
listing attention, and the kinds of mental and 
moral products resulting therefrom are without 
number. 

We live in communities. These communities 
consist of individuals of every grade of intelligence, 
of unlike personal habits, of opposite or divergent 
views relating to business, to politics, to religion, 
concerning both time and eternity. The forms of 

265 



MAIl^-BUILDING 

industry are diverse, the ambitions and amuse- 
ments lead in different directions ; life is as motley 
as Joseph's coat of many colors. There are noble 
men and women ; there are those who are base, 
foul of mouth, and sunken in iniquity. Some in- 
dustries are legitimate, and then there are indus- 
tries fitted to corrupt all the fountains of being. 
There is the realm of virtue, and there is the foul 
breath of the pit. To walk upon the street is to 
come in contact with life or death. Political 
parties spring into existence ; the nation is stirred 
from centre to circumference with appeals that are 
patriotic, or, perhaps, born of greed or lust of 
power. The church points toward heaven, and 
the saloon seeks to drag down into hell. No 
spot can be found where virtue holds undisputed 
sway, and we are glad to know that there is no 
place so vile but that right and truth there lift up 
their voice of warning and hope. How to shun 
the evil and gather in the good is a question not 
always easy to answer. In coming into such a 
world as this the child plunges into the midst of 
dangers innumerable ; but yet there are paths 
which lead into realms of safety, and where flow- 
ers of virtue perpetually bloom. 

" No one can touch pitch without being defiled." 
To come into contact with that which is evil is to 
feel its power. Picturing vice in order to show 
its deformity does not drive toward virtue, but 
lather whets the appetite for the unwholesome 

266 



EDUCATION BY CONTACT 

food. The drunkard's reeling on the street does 
not reform the onlooker, but tends to debase the 
moral sense of the community. Vice does not re- 
act for the exaltation of virtue. You can convert 
sugar into vinegar but you cannot convert vinegar 
into sugar. Virtue may make a misstep and be- 
come vice, but vice never makes a misstep so as to 
become virtue. Familiarity with vice breeds evil 
and evil only. The terrible associations in the 
world of the lost will not work a change for the 
better. Strange as it may seem, the abhorrent 
qualities of the wicked do not repel, but stir into 
action an attractive force, or instil poison into the 
soul. 

The public-school system of a people and its 
civilization are not synonymous terms. The act- 
ual life of a nation is much more than the instruc- 
tion given to the youth in the school-room. It is 
not the teaching of arithmetic, grammar, algebra, 
Latin, history, or even civil government, that 
makes the character of the people — making it noble 
or ignoble, settling the question of freedom and 
the type of personal and community life. School- 
work enters into civilization, but it is by no means 
the whole of it. The branches taught in our Amer- 
ican schools would not make Americans of the 
Spaniards. They are what they are because of 
the experience of the past, their theological creeds, 
their national aims, the wars they have fought, the 
forms of industry prosecuted, and their relations 

267 



MAN-BUILDING 

to other nations on the great battle-field of history. 
Even their jurisprudence does not come from their 
schools but from their hot-headed temperament 
acted upon by, and acting through, their special 
environment. 

Something more would be needed than our 
school - system to give to the aborigines of this 
country our American spirit. In part our civiliza- 
tion has been imported, in part it is the outgrowth 
of our industrial and moral life. Not only do the 
traditions and inherited spirit of the Indian make 
him what he now is, but everything upon which 
he gazes, the unrestrained freedom of the forest, 
his conception of the degradation of labor, his 
notion of the inferiority of woman — all that enters 
into the workings of his mental being, with his 
notions of honor and his conceptions of right. 
With him liberty is not the absence of restraint 
upon duty and justice, but it is freedom from re- 
sponsibility to others. He conceives the individ- 
ual to be most nearly free whose will is uncurbed. 

It is evident that that which is outside of the 
school-room may bear on human destiny not less 
vitally than the instructions imparted therein. 
Saloons lining the streets, though not entered by 
the growing boy, tell him a tale which makes him 
familiar with vice. The profane word which he 
hears, though not at first spoken by his own lips, 
dispels the feeling of the wickedness of impiety. 
The ribald song which falls on his ears opens to 

268 



EDUCATION BY CONTACT 

the imagination the avenues of vice. The father, 
the older brother, the business man, puffing a cigar 
is an allurement toward this baneful habit. Fash- 
ion has entrapped many a young woman and dis- 
pelled all thought of duty and a useful life. 

On the other hand the temple of Christian wor- 
ship calls to mind the Supreme Ruler of all things, 
making its appeals, though mute, in behalf of a 
life of submission to divine law, and of reverence 
for that Infinite Majesty in Whom is perfection of 
power, of wisdom, of justice, and of love. That 
community is outwardly best ordered that removes 
from sight, hearing, and taste everything which 
suggests vicious thoughts, which inflames and 
taints the imagination, or opens the way for the 
formation of degrading habits. It is sad that 
childhood and youth should be assailed on every 
hand by scenes which poison the mind and draw 
into paths that lead to ruin. And yet there is 
reason for much rejoicing that the public con- 
science is becoming awakened to a realization of 
responsibility to purify the fountains of govern- 
ment, to banish that which is vicious from our 
streets, and^surround our homes with what has less 
of peril for the young. 

But there is a false philosophy which lessens 
the care that should be exercised. It is assumed 
that not only is youth the time, in its exuberance, 
in which much of that which strict principles of 
morality oannot endorse, is often practised, but 

269 



MAN-BUILDING 

that this will naturally end when manhood is 
reached. "Oh, he is sowing his wild oats just 
now, he will come out all right ! " Was there ever 
a more dangerous delusion ? " The appetite for 
strong drink fade away ? " " Corrupting habits be- 
come virtues ? " This is the voice of folly and allures 
along the way that leads to ruin. Nothing retains 
its vitality more than the seeds of an evil life. A 
certain harvest ? Yes, and a perpetually renewed 
harvest ; to the end manhood carries the curses 
which youth has implanted in both body and soul. 

The beginnings of evil make their appearance 
in youth and generally become more rank as the 
years multiply. Should they be repressed, under 
a conviction of their folly, they still cling to the 
life, rankling within. The home that is pure saves 
from a thousand snares; but a corrupt home is 
just at the entrance to the chamber of death. A 
community from which the pitfalls of vice are ban- 
ished throws a safeguard around the young, while 
the places where corrupting influences abound are 
filling moral graveyards with the lost. 

Wisdom lifts up her voice and cries out to every 
young person : " Shun the paths which lead away 
from virtue. Go not along with evil-doers. Scorn 
depraved companionship. Drink not at corrupt 
fountains. Sow not the seed of folly and vice, for 
the harvest is certain." The learning of the schools 
will be powerless to ennoble the life when the 
steps take hold on death. 

270 



THE FEINTED PAGE 

CHAPTEE LYII 
THE PRINTED PAGE 

It was evidently the divine purpose to make 
this earth socially a unit, so that the pulse of 
each land should beat for all lands, the good any- 
where developed becoming the common heritage 
of mankind. Isolation is repression ; prison walls, 
whether made of stone or consisting of mental re- 
strictions because of the absence of lines of com- 
munication, break society into fragments and ar- 
rest progress. We need to draw our mental 
supplies from every quarter of the globe and from 
every period of time. The blow we strike should 
be felt in every country ; and the reverberations 
from the struggles and hopes, the successes, the 
triumphs and even the failures, on all the con- 
tinents and islands where man dwells, should make 
their impressions on our hearts and lives. 

The contact of one life with another is sure to 
modify the character. That boy is fortunate who 
has a wise and upright father ; and a vicious par- 
ent, with almost absolute certainty drags his son 
downward into evil. Intimate companionship 
tends to unity in thought, feeling, and purpose. 
In many respects there is sure to be a mental fam- 
ily likeness in the home, not simply from inheri- 

271 



MAN-BUILDING 

tance of traits, but from the constant intercliange 
of thought and sentiment. In politics the son is 
most likely to see things as his father sees them. 
And the type of family life when the home is 
isolated from all other homes, is built up from 
within, is wrought out by these limited associa- 
tions, and is, it may be, in marked contrast with 
the spirit prevailing outside of the family circle ; 
but as neighborhood life is introduced, and more 
and more widely prevails, local unlikeness disap- 
pears, each individual and family contributes to, 
and receives from the others, through the exten- 
sion of sociological forces brought into operation. 
More widely still do these modifying influences 
extend as the neighborhood expands to the state 
and the state to the continent and on to the vast 
world of being. 

No one in studying sociological forces could fail 
to find a large place for the printed page. It is 
evident that the art of printing has completely 
revolutionized society. This, history shows. The 
world with the printing press is wholly different 
from the world without it. Eliminate from the 
life of to-day our reading matter and there would 
be taken out of experience, in full or in part, al- 
most everything which characterizes our civiliza- 
tion, which shapes the policy of government, 
which arms the church with power, which guides 
the industries of the continents, and gives to each 
one of us a world-citizenship. Whether for good 

272 



THE FEINTED PAGE 

or evil we are in touch with each other through the 
press. Heart speaks to heart and thoughts become 
cosmopolitan. That is most broadly sociological 
which puts people most widely into communica- 
tion, which most completely in thought abolishes 
latitude and longitude, and brings all the ages into 
communion. This the press accomplishes for us. 
It gives to the past a voice for our instruction and 
guidance. It preserves both the good and the 
bad of successive ages. It weaves the mental 
work of all lands and periods of time into the warp 
of human life so that it shall not perish. And in 
the working out of world-problems through the 
press every country is taking part in the move- 
ments which tear down and build up and which 
are making history. London is to-day talking 
with New York ; Berlin and Vienna hold converse 
with each other; Paris and St. Petersburg ex- 
change views ; America and the Old World discuss 
great questions of finance, of tariff, of different 
forms of industry and the policy of governments. 
Congress, the British Parliament, the French as- 
sembly, the German Bundesrath, and the Eussian 
Czar cannot rule in secret. Governments and the 
people of all lands hear the heart-beats which 
thunder along the columns of the printed page ; 
restraint is put upon power, and world-politics are 
shaped through the influences thus exerted. 

The monarchies of Europe would have been 
much less disturbed by the establishing of our re- 

273 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

publican form of government could the printing- 
press have been silenced. Despotism fears the 
printed sheet more than everything else. The 
censorship of the press in despotic lands throttles 
free speech, almost completely withholding intelli- 
gence. Before our Civil War every effort was made 
to shut out from the South the broad discussions 
of human liberty, even preventing the teaching of 
the colored man to read lest he break his chains. 
Civil rights can be fully guaranteed and main- 
tained only by the largest freedom of the press, 
with no restraints other than moral restraints. 

But the press should not be lawless any more 
than any other agency of power. Nothing can do 
more harm. Its evil effects are more permanent 
and destructive than the utterances of the lips. A 
libel — a printed slander — is rightly punished with, 
more severity than damaging speech. There igi 
no more important problem than the proper hand- 
ling of the press. So great, so pervasive is its 
power ; so largely are the destinies of individuals 
and nations in its hands, that we may well look upon 
it with interest and, perhaps, with alarm. We are 
accustomed to say that illiteracy, in its exclusion 
of intelligence, is, when it exists, a menace to the 
state as well as an individual disability. That it 
can largely prevail in this country is scarcely pos- 
sible. This is a reading age. The child that does 
not learn to read must be isolated from the influ- 
ences which almost universally work for intelli- 

274 



I 



THE PEINTEB PAGE 

gence. And having learned to read, tlie induce- 
ments to use this power are almost irresistible. 
But, unfortunately, much of that which is enticing 
is baneful. The very citadel of the moral life of 
the child is in many cases attacked, captured, 
defiled, and ruined. The people are awakening 
somewhat to the. terrible evils which are preying 
on society; but how to arrest them is not easy 
to determine. There are books published which 
should never come from the press. There are 
papers printed which ought not to see the light. 
Efforts are made to guard the mails from this evil, 
but only with limited results. Something further 
and different needs to be done. We speak of this 
here from its relation to the subject discussed in 
this chapter — the education through the press, the 
wide-spread sociological power of the press over 
human life. Solomon said, " Train up a child in 
the way he should go and when he is old he will 
not depart from it." This is the statement of a 
principle which we may regard as universal. But 
there are, practically, difficulties in the way of 
perfect training because of the press — as well as 
many other perverted agencies of power — of which 
Solomon had no knowledge. We cannot keep the 
child beyond the reach of public influences, and 
vile literature has permeated almost every avenue 
in which human life is found. 

On the other hand, the press is a mighty power 
used in behalf of good, and as such becomes a de- 

275 



MAN-BUILDINa 

cided factor in the building up of manhood. To 
the extent that truth and pure and noble senti- 
ments gleam forth from the printed page, they en- 
ter into progress and make history that is worthy 
of being immortal. The Church speaks through 
the press, sending messages of warning, of mercy, 
and salvation to the millions that would otherwise 
perish. The Bible, scattered all over the earth, 
tells of God, of immortality, of heaven for the 
righteous, of hell awaiting the incorrigible sinner, 
of Christ dying that we might live. And it is the 
Sword of the Spirit through which the All-Father 
finds access to the hearts of men. The religious 
press in its various fields of operation visits the 
Sunday-school, the fireside, the home of the toiler, 
and the study of the sage ; the desk of the states- 
man to awaken spiritual impulses ; the office of the 
politician that he may understand that God is 
greater than man ; it goes to the seeker after 
wealth that the voice of conscience may be led to 
give forth its warnings ; to the student that in his 
learning he may realize that back of the universe is 
the Eternal, the First Cause, and that over all men 
there is a throne of power and infinite sovereignty. 
Whatever be the field in which men are at work, 
they depend on the press to carry forward their 
projects. Science thereby records her discover- 
ies ; industrial pursuits find in this a treasury of 
knowledge and a guide to success. Without it the 
schools would languish and die. Political parties 

276 



THE PRINTED PAGE 

do their largest work througli the printed pag^j 
putting their appeals before the eye of every voter 
from one end of the land to the other. Every inter- 
est of the race wields the press as an arm of power. 
We can scarcely conceive what we would be had 
the printing-press never come into being. All 
forms of power depend upon it, and every life is 
moulded through its agency. 

A word of advice is here in place. Eead — not 
all that is printed — but the best. What is the 
*' best " ? That depends on the end to be reached. 
There is a moral "best," an intellectual "best," an 
industrial "best," a "best" for information, a 
" best" for training the imagination, a " best " for 
scientific pursuits. Eead wisely, with an end in 
view. Read nothing that will mar the life. Eead 
that which will promote intelligence, which will 
train the powers of thought, which will exalt the 
character, which will make you more philanthropic, 
which will make you a better citizen, which will 
enable you to get the most out of this life and 
will interest you in the life which is to come. 



877 



MAN-BUILDING 

CHAPTEE LVIII 

INFLUENCES OF TRAVEL 

Nothing characterizes the present age more than 
the restlessness which seeks in travel something 
not possessed at home. This restlessness is not 
always an impulse to flee from existing experiences 
because of their lack of power to afford satisfaction ; 
it may even grow out of a keen enjoyment of that 
which makes up life. The student does not eagerly 
push into new fields of thought because he is tired 
of the old, but from a sharp appetite for truth. 
But whatever may be the inspiring motive, man is 
ever on the move, traversing new fields and enter- 
ing into new experiences. The monotony of life, 
at least, is dispelled ; fresh scenes are successively 
encountered, and new impressions daily gained. 
The world is outwardly enlarged, though not, per- 
haps, always intensively deepened. Views are 
multiplied, possibly at the expense of the depth of 
conviction of, or insight into, the content of that 
which is more limited in scope. At any rate in the 
case of the observant traveller the stock of infor- 
mation is increased. With some persons this may 
be at the expense of the action of the reflective 
powers — facts taking the lead of philosophy, knowl- 
edge rather than thought — but a groundwork for 

278 



INFLUEKCES OF TEAYEL 

thought is laid ; in enlarged views there is a broader 
foundation for a grand temple of truth, for a struct- 
ure into which universal knowledge may be incor- 
porated. 

There are diverse forces in operation bringing 
about diverse results. Climatic conditions, for in- 
stance, are exceedingly varied. Nature in the trop- 
ics is radically different from nature in the frigid 
zones. One abounds in vegetation, the other is 
almost destitute of it. In the former, man need 
not labor, the earth is lavish of her gifts. Indo- 
lence hence prevails, and mental apathy takes pos- 
session of the life ; in the low civilization prevail- 
ing there is the absence of great principles stirring 
the mind, and government is rude and limited in 
its provisions. 

Physical, and hence mental, conditions rapidly 
change as we trace either way from the equator tow- 
ard the poles. Thus not only does climate supply 
tendencies which are wrought into life and make 
history, but unnumbered diversities in physical 
configuration enter into the problem. We have 
a world made of land and water, broken up into 
myriads of divisions of every conceivable form — 
continental masses, with mountain ranges, plains 
and valleys, rivers traversing these great divisions 
of land, and vast oceans covering a large part of 
the earth's surface. From these unlike conditions 
a historical variety, which is radically diverse in 
arts, industries, and civilization, has sprung into 

279 



MAN-BUILDING 

existence. We find there are cities for defence 
amid mountain fastnesses ; commercial cities by 
means of which the products of a continent make 
their way to the sea. Kivers not only carry the 
water from the heart of vast continental masses to 
the great oceans which belt them, but they are the 
highways of trade. Coast indentations become 
seats of empire. Governments grow up around 
industrial centres ; political ambitions take shape 
according to nature's prophetic utterances ; prob- 
lems of thought arising from local needs or ad- 
vantages arrest the attention ; and we have a world 
as checkered as the leaves of the forest in the 
autumn sun. But each centre of civilization has 
local features — partial, not universal. 

The press tells us of these varied points of inter- 
est, drawing the contrast as far as types can paint 
the picture. But it can only give us the skeleton, 
it cannot cover it with flesh ; it cannot put the tint 
on the cheeks ; it cannot bring personalities in 
touch with each other ; it cannot unfold the tone 
of the voice and make the inner life real. No one 
can to-day feel the heart-beats of the races as they 
lived two or- three thousand years ago. To read 
one of Demosthenes's orations is much less than to 
stand in the great assembly in elbow-touch with 
the people, impressed by the important interests 
which called them together ; listening to the words 
of the matchless orator, seeing the emotions gleam- 
ing in the eye and moving his features, yourself 

280 



INFLUENCES OF TEAVEL 

dwelling in the scene, yourself a part of it. The 
past, however accurately described, will not come 
back to us — only in shadows. What we read 
about men and things, though valuable, is incom- 
plete. We know the community about us only as 
we come in contact with the people, hear the voice 
as it speaks, feel the touch of the hand in the 
greetings offered, engage in conversation, realize 
what the problems are which stir the minds of 
business men, of educators, or religionists, both 
rich and poor ; see the people in their homes of 
gladness and of sorrow ; come in contact with their 
daily movements ; gaze upon the work they have 
wrought, and witness the trend of community and 
national life. 

The mind grows by what it feeds upon, and in 
the absence of food growth is arrested. It was 
evidently God's purpose to lead forth our powers 
through that which is external to our being. 
From our earliest years the horizon of life is con- 
stantly enlarging. It is first, the narrow circle of 
home, then the neighborhood, then the state, the 
country, and the whole world. In this process all 
the senses are employed. It is an extension of the 
primary methods of knowledge into wide fields, 
carrying forward on a large scale that which has 
been so successfully begun in early years. Much 
is obtained in this way that cannot otherwise be 
secured. Eealities are perceived in their actual 
settings. Impressions are gained which go down 
381 



MAN-BUILDING 

most deeply into the mind and abide as a posses- 
sion of the soul. An inspiration for knowledge is 
awakened which can in no other way be stirred 
within us. 

To illustrate : No one can obtain from the de- 
scriptions of the press such a view of Paris as en* 
ters into the being by spending a year or more on 
its streets, in its assemblies, looking at its archi- 
tecture, visiting its museums, talking with its peo- 
ple, feeling the pulse of its social life, observing 
its customs, sitting at its firesides, giving attention 
to the political problems which arise from its his- 
tory, and scanning the religious trend of the city 
growing out of the crystallizations of the past into 
the life of the present. He who would understand 
Jewish history knows he must visit Palestine, walk 
the streets of Jerusalem where David and Solomon 
held their court, where that strange civilization of 
exclusiveness grew into a spirit that has defied the 
allurements and power of nineteen centuries of 
time. A Chinaman is fully a Chinaman only as 
he is in the midst of the traditional life of his own 
native land, and swayed by the power of his ances- 
tral religion ; where every foot of soil is as sacred 
as the memory of his fathers who have entered 
into the realm of the gods. The earth conceived 
as 25,000 miles in circumference, comprising land 
and water, with human beings born into the world 
and spending here a brief period of time under 
different forms of government, means to us much 

283 



INFLUENCES OF TEAVEL 

less than when this earth is traversed for inspec- 
tion, when its mountains are climbed, its rivers are 
traced, its varied home -life witnessed, its intel- 
lectual status measured, its political systems fath- 
omed. Philosophy read is one thing, but of far 
more interest and significance when encountered 
in the concrete personality of the living philoso- 
pher himself who is possessed of its doctrines and 
spirit. To hear Socrates talk would be to us inex- 
pressibly more than simply to read the utterances 
of his lips. One cannot read of the land of the 
midnight sun so carefully as to convince him that 
he has it all, that nothing further would await him 
should he traverse its weird domain. A museum 
gathered from all quarters of the globe, represent- 
ing its minerals, its animal and vegetable treasures, 
has its value, but is much like a hand severed 
from the arm, a foot amputated from the leg. Nat- 
ure must be seen in her habitat to be most in- 
structive. God did not plan to save the world with 
the Bible alone, but with the Bible in the hands 
of the living messenger of salvation making his 
appeals to the understanding and hearts of the 
people. 

We cannot easily estimate the extent of the 
sociological forces on the life when permitted to 
exercise their sway over us. They come from 
every quarter of the globe and weave themselves 
into our being. We cannot get beyond theirreach. 
To escape them we must live in seclusion as the 

283 



MAN-BUILDING 

hermit lives, give up locomotion, and anchor in the 
soil like the plant that dwells alone. 

Sociological influences, with their moulding pow- 
er, are rapidly multiplying. All lands are being 
merged into a community of life. Africa, the 
"sealed continent," breaks its seal and all men 
gaze into its hitherto dark recesses. Steam makes 
the Atlantic and Pacific highways of trade, of travel, 
and of thought. Electricity is not only the mouth- 
piece of intelligence, but the propelling power of 
commerce and the unifier of states. Eailroads trav- 
erse all plains, wind around the mountains, and 
penetrate into hitherto unknown lands, carrying 
the explorer and the man of business, introducing 
the civilization of far-off countries. Siberia will 
cease to be a dreaded penal colony, for the scream 
of the locomotive awakens echoes among the hills 
and mountains, and the hitherto isolated domain 
is beginning to shake hands with the empires of 
Southern Europe. Even China will lay down her 
weapons of defence against the free commerce of 
thought. Her ancestral religion cannot shut out 
the railroad. No wall is high enough to success- 
fully repel the instinct of intercommimication of 
the peoples of the earth. With the increasing 
commingling of races, national and individual dif- 
ferences disappear, and all approach a common 
status of life. Asia will be Europeanized, America 
will more and more send back to the Old World 
h^r ideas wrought out on this Western Continent, 
^84 



COMMERCE AND INDUSTRIES 

All lands wiU come into a congress of thouglit, 
and each human being will be a composite of uni- 
fied but hitherto discordant forces of history and 
civilization. 



CHAPTEE LIX 
COMMERCE AND INDUSTRIES 

Commerce, scarcely less than production, is a 
necessity of life. The forms of industry are almost 
innumerable. No individual could handle them 
all. For this diversity of operations there are 
both mental adaptations and physical laws. The 
rotundity of the earth, causing variety in climate ; 
the distribution of land and water ; the diversity 
of natural resources and their special localization 
compel unlikeness in occupation. The digging of 
gold is confined to the gold-bearing rocks; the 
mining of copper can be carried forward only 
where there are copper deposits. Salt wells are 
operated where there are saline strata, and petro- 
leum is found in limited sections of the country. 
Wheat lands are not always good grazing lands, 
and the cotton prefers a southern climate. The 
endless diversities of nature's products grow out 
of special physical adaptations which are restricted 
in their extent. 

There is a diversity of tastes and talents which 

285 



MAN-BUILDING 

leads to unlike employments. For some, agricult- 
ure has special attractions, while others are more 
at home in mechanical pursuits. One man chooses 
the platform, another the bar, and another the 
pulpit. Some delight in the painter's art, some 
in handling the sculptor's chisel, and others find 
their way to the sick-room to administer relief to 
suffering humanity. The successful artisan might 
make an indifferent farmer; and the able lawyer 
a poor mechanic. The poet is not always a finan- 
cier, and the prosperous merchant might fail as a 
stock-raiser. 

The result of unlikeness of tastes and talents, 
and of localized natural resources, is a multiplicity 
of industries, each pursued by a limited number 
of individuals, and all interdependent for profit- 
able consumption of products. The theory is 
without foundation that society is the result of an 
artificial compact ; that the people have consented 
to a life of neighborliness because they have found 
it to be profitable. There is a social instinct as 
deep as life itself — a factor of life. Society is a 
fundamental race reality not less actual, as we 
have pointed out, than the existence of individuals. 
But in harmony with this instinct — not a substi- 
tute for it — there is a business dependence which 
serves to bind, more strongly, the people together. 
They cannot live apart if they would. Personal 
animosities might work with terrible force to sep- 
arate one from the other, but this alienation can- 

286 



COMMERCE AND INDUSTEIES 

not be complete, for each creates something the 
other needs. To live in absolute isolation is to 
drop to the lowest plane of enjoyment, and live a 
life that is wholly unprogressive. 

Thus the race is a great trading community. 
Each person produces one thing, or a few things, 
and consumes many things. All forms of business 
are linked together in a community of interests 
which has never been dissolved. On the lowest 
plane the laborer is a necessity to the capitalist, 
and there must be capital in order that labor may 
find employment. And getting above this plane, 
away from the relation of employer and employee, 
should it be held that each is an independent 
producer, yet it is apparent that no one is an in- 
dependent consumer. He may manufacture one 
thing, but for bodily and mental wants he must 
have many things ; and, indeed, the material he 
uses and the machinery he handles, if at all skil- 
fully made, must be the product of other industries. 
The problem of rights in industry, and of improv- 
ing the condition of the laboring man, is not a 
problem of greater or less dependence, but of 
special relations within the state of mutual de- 
pendence. Many persons interested in social and 
practical economics are looking for great changes 
for the better through the introduction and action 
of co-operative industry, in which a share in the 
profits shall be substituted for wages now paid the 
laborer. This dream may be realized, but inter- 

287 



MAN-BUILDING 

dependence will not be lessened, it will be a change 
of mode within a sphere of mutual dependence. 
By co-operative industry there will be the removal 
of the friction between labor and capital if co- 
operation shall be equitably arranged. This would 
destroy the ground of strikes, and be a great paci- 
fier in the industrial world. How fully it could 
be introduced cannot be positively stated, but 
in any event the links binding us together must 
remain, each must contribute to the well-being 
of all. 

Even combinations that are called trusts — which 
are capable of doing much harm — do not dispense 
with the community principle. They are monop- 
olies that can override smaller aggregations of 
capital, and crush out competition unless restrained 
by wise legislation. The evil is not in the large 
amount of capital invested but in the irresponsi- 
bility, in its handling, to the individual citizen. 
Now by increasing the facilities for production by 
labor-saving inventions, for instance, capital is 
increased. Any arrangement, indeed, which per- 
mits a reduction of the pay-roll increases profits. 
Society is to be congratulated that labor, because 
of better machinery, more complete specialization 
and improvements in transportation, is becoming 
more profitable. The only thing to be feared in 
these vast industrial movements is that the modes 
of procedure shall transgress natural rights, that 
many will iiot receive due share of the profits 

288 



COMMEKCE AND INDUSTKIES 

which directly or indirectly they have helped to 
create. All progress is liable to work some form 
of temporary hardship. 

These thoughts bring us back to the considera- 
tion of the fact that the world is a great trading 
community. Specializing in production we must 
certainly exchange one with the other, and in- 
creasingly we will exchange with all lands. With- 
out it production must wane and indolence take 
possession of our powers. Certainly it is true 
that thus there could be no high grade of civiliza- 
tion, no grand sweep of progress. The force of 
this last statement will be appreciated when we 
stop to consider that the industries of the people 
are a great school. More thought has been be- 
stowed on them than on anything else, than per- 
haps on all things else. To obtain a livelihood ap- 
peals to most persons as of the first importance. 
Commerce, which, on a larger or smaller scale, is a 
medium for possession, is an exchange of personal 
efforts. Mental energies employed in produc- 
tion and interchange is the great factor of in- 
dustry. Each person in this mighty army of toil- 
ers is trafiicking in thoughts, under plans formed 
and schemes devised, with some intelligent pur- 
pose in which life itself is at stake. It is mind 
coming in contact with mind. Experience is 
gained, intellect is sharpened, broad views are 
gained, and we become what we are through this 
intermingling of thought, this interchange of ob- 

289 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

jects of desire. Life is wrought out in its develop- 
ment by constant activity in the industries prose- 
cuted. That which is about us in nature, and our 
various talents and inclinations, determine the di- 
rection of our energies, and the future brings forth 
fruit from the special seed thus sown. 

We must not fail to state more explicitly that 
one of the most vital facts in sociology is that 
business interdependence is not only a stimulating 
but a conserving and binding force, establishing a 
unity of life which nothing can permanently dis- 
solve. Even when absorbing selfishness rules in 
the breast we must help others, for thus only can 
we help ourselves. He who pauperizes his neigh- 
bor pauperizes his own being. To own everything 
is to own nothing. Sharing with others is, even 
on rigid business principles, increasing personal 
gains. It requires more hands than our own to 
supply our wants. Into the sum of our possessions 
enters the labor, the creating energy, of the multi- 
tudes of those who are toiling for their own good. 
Social instinct might, perhaps, be overriden by per- 
sonal malice, but completely to sever business re- 
lations would be certain ruin. 

Thus in the education of an individual the world 
about him does and must participate. He does 
not, he cannot live purely from within. Innumer- 
able waves of influence and power beat in upon 
him from without. He may select, but he cannot 
bid defiance to them. Some employment he must 

290 



CITY AND COUNTRY 

have in relation with the world around him. If 
conscientious, he will not choose that which de- 
moralizes and works ruin. If wise, he will select 
that which will be most abundant in fruit for him- 
self and his neighbor. If generous, he will not 
seek to live for personal ends only ; and he who 
robs the community will, in some way, lose more 
than he gains. 



CHAPTEK LX 

THE CITY AND THE COUNTRY 

Man works out his destiny on the earth ; this 
must be his place of habitation. It cannot be a 
matter of indifference as to the specific theatre of 
his life, the problems he shall encounter, the 
scenes through which he shall pass. There are 
two radically opposite conditions, the dwelling 
alone with nature, and the dwelling in the midst 
of thronging multitudes of human beings. We 
speak of the country and the city. No one can 
profitably study the life of man in its development, 
the outcome of his activities as an individual and 
in national and race manifestations without taking 
into account the environment within which he 
spends his days. In the city the human is at its 
maximum and nature at its minimum; in the 
country nature is at its maximum and the human 

291 



MAN-BUILDING 

at its minimuin. On this contrast depend the un- 
like results which appear and enter into life. In 
this discussion we are concerned only with the 
modifying influence of the theatre of our activities, 
the bent which is thereby given to our education. 
The object on which thought is employed and 
the character and extent of the stimulus applied 
are the determining factors in the modification 
effected in our being. Gazing with interest on 
the immoral, making it a constant object of atten- 
tion, debases the soul. Scenes which are pure and 
lovely develop within us a state free from that 
which is impure. That which tells of the accu- 
mulation of wealth, suggesting at every turn the 
making of money, increases, so far as it takes pos- 
session of us, the greed of gain. To dwell amid 
lofty mountains ; to spend our years in the pres- 
ence of scenery that is grand, manifesting majesty 
and power, is a training of the imagination, an 
exalting of thought. The vast expanse of the 
ocean, the limitless sweep of the prairie, broadens 
our mental vision ; while with life shut up within 
some contracted area, never looking out beyond 
it, the conceptions of the mind are narrowed, the 
import of language is reduced to its smallest con- 
tent, and everything is shrivelled. To look upon 
sorrow is to have sympathy inspired; to dwell 
only in sunshine banishes sadness from the heart. 
Adversity and prosperity work out opposite con- 
ditions in both our mental and moral being. 

292 



CITY AND COUNTRY 

The city and the country do not differ so much 
on the quantitative as on the qualitative side. 
Nature, though full of life, has a restful life. Ex- 
cept in movements such as we find in the foaming 
rapids, the plunging cataract, the furious ocean, 
the maddened stream — which manifestations of 
power are not common — there is no rush or hurry. 
In the budding spring, the growing summer, the 
ripening autumn, there is no dash. The pulse of 
nature beats silently, it never races at fever heat. 
There is no cornering of the market, no combina- 
tion to excite alarm. Everything is frank and 
open to view. There is a fulness in nature, but 
it is unlike the fulness of the city. The student 
sees in the soil, in the growing plant, enough to 
tax all his powers of research. The botanist finds 
in the vegetable kingdom a wonderful laboratory 
where the inanimate is transformed into the ani- 
mate ; where the stateliness of the forest, the 
beauty of the flower, the nutrition of the fruit, the 
germ of the seed for the resurrection of life as the 
seasons make their rounds, impress us through 
the action of their astonishing forces. The zo- 
ologist in the animal world is in the presence of 
vast energies on a plane much above the vegetable, 
where the organic puts on powers of locomotion, 
is possessed of instinct and discriminative intelli- 
gence, and renders service to man in unnumbered 
ways. 

The primary sources of knowledge are not large- 

293 



MAN-BUILDING 

ly in the city, but in the country. The soil with 
its chemical forces ; the sunlight and rain acting 
on these constituents to develop the plant; the 
mountains condensing the moisture into rain- 
clouds to feed the river systems ; the mines of 
silver, of gold, of copper, and of iron adapted to 
the uses of man ; the deposits of coal for the arts ; 
the plant and the animal world which supply 
problems without number for our solution, these, 
with multitudes of other fields of study, are solicit- 
ing our attention. The farmer can and should be 
a scientist. Producing that which feeds the body, 
the mind may be enriched day by day. He may 
commune with nature, he may ask nature a multi- 
tude of questions which she will answer, provided 
he intelligently listens. Away from the bustle 
and distraction of the great gatherings of men, he 
may come close to the heart of God's own world, 
and hear divine voices which would be drowned 
by the noisy confusion of the city. As that which 
characterizes the city is bustle and strife, we have 
in the country nature in her largest fulness ; themes 
of thought which are suggested by the special 
forms of industry there pursued, and the deep 
things which God has hidden — or revealed? — in 
his works. Sociologically, then, the country exerts 
the smallest influence over us in shaping our lives, 
but it supplies other forces which affect our des- 
tiny. 

As in the country we are face to face with nat- 

294 



CITY AND COUNTED 

ure, in the city we are face to face with men. In 
this respect the contrast is almost world-wide. 
Human beings and human art constitute the city. 
It is an aggregation of individuals and families 
constructing for themselves homes, and reciprocal- 
ly carrying forward industries by which they are 
supplied with the necessaries of life. Aside from 
this it is an entrepot of the products of the labor 
of the country, a centre of trade and other forms 
of reactive industries. The city is fed from the 
country, but it sends back to the country products 
which the country could not otherwise obtain. 

It is apparent that the sociological forces of the 
city are so marked as to make it a world, in almost 
every respect, unlike the country. While the lat- 
ter consists of broad acres, majestic forests, great 
rivers, waving fields of grain, nature more or less 
impressive, with here and there a human habita- 
tion, the former is a concentration of the human 
in life and ar^^t, with nature almost shut out of 
view^ Yet the city because of this concentration 
is not diminutive in the advantages it offers and 
the impressions it makes, but is an aggregation of 
power achieving tremendous results. As in the 
focus of the sun's rays brought together by the 
" burning glass " there is intense heat, so in the 
city, life puts on energy, an intensity which burns 
its way into the heart of society and achieves 
astonishing results. Indeed, the very grandeur 
of the city is intense, moving ns by an overwhelm- 

295 



MAN-BUILDING 

ing force. It is here that operations are carried for- 
ward on a tremendous scale. As electricity scattered 
through the clouds is powerless, but when it unites 
its energies in a flash of lightning, it can rend 
the mightiest oak and dislodge the rock from the 
mountain summit, so human energies thrown into 
one seething centre, develop power which is irre- 
sistible in its sweep. Here are vast accumulations, 
the fruit of man's toil, which awe us by their 
grandeur. Here are mammoth mercantile houses 
handling the products of all lands ; extensive pub- 
lic works in which steam, electricity, compressed 
air, and hydraulic power become the servants of the 
human will. There are here great libraries con- 
taining the learning of all lands and ages. Mag- 
nificent churches are reared, where art takes on its 
highest forms and beauty adorns that which is im- 
posing. The heart manifests its tender sympa- 
thies in great hospitals where every possible pro- 
vision is made for the sick and the maimed. To 
live amid that which man has wrought on such a 
magnificent scale, is to come under human influ- 
ences which make an indelible impression on both 
the intellect and heart. The objects of thought, 
the lines of thinking, are forced upon us by this 
contact with that which is human. The evil and 
the good both find in the city a wide field for the 
display of their special energies. Vice hides from 
sight more easily than in the country, and crime 
flourishes in a most productive soil. While benef- 

296 



CITY AND COUNTEY 

icence here finds the most ample field for its em- 
ployment, evil introduces the greatest havoc. The 
young man who goes to the city will come to 
realize that human nature reaches its grandest 
heights, but also sinks to its lowest depths. Con- 
science, sublime moral purposes may be an ade- 
quate safeguard, but pitfalls are hidden beneath 
his feet. Nothing less than a positive and un- 
conquerable aversion to wrong-doing is needed 
to direct his steps. 

In the city we find the most active and deter- 
mined competition in every great field of endeavor. 
Will success crown our efforts? It is here that 
man measures arms with his fellow-man. It is 
almost wholly a competitive life. The ablest law- 
yers, the most skilful physicians and surgeons, 
the most astute politicians, the most eloquent 
ministers, the sharpest tradesmen, the most capa- 
ble builders, here have their home and do their 
work. Largely to share in public favor and stand 
among the first, requires talent, application, and a 
will that is not easily overcome. In the country 
there is scarcely any competition. He who ex- 
pends almost untold treasures on his farm, in its 
cultivation, on improvements, on houses and barns, 
on walks and drives, in any form of ornamentation, 
does not stand in the way of his neighbor's suc- 
cess, who is getting his livelihood from the soil. 
Nature will patronize the latter with sunshine and 
rain not less kindly than the former. But wealth 

297 



MAN-BUILDING '^ 

can make a mercantile house in the city a centre of 
trade at the expense of the less fortunate dealer. 
Thus in the city, man, as we have said, is the great 
factor, and despite all opposing plans and efforts, 
to a large extent, we become what he makes us 
to be. 

The city is the home of extremes, the theatre of 
successes and failures, successes which come from 
association with men, and failures which man 
forces on his neighbor. It is not the purpose of 
this chapter to show how successes can be gained 
and failures avoided, but to point to the fact that 
the problem is a human problem, that human en- 
vironment is a major quantity. We succeed or 
fail through relations with our fellow-men. 

The problem of city life, educationally, morally, 
and in municipal affairs, is one of the most com- 
plex of all problems, than which there is none other 
more vital. There are practical forces in operation 
which cause an influx from the country into the 
city. One-third of all the people of the United 
States dwell to-day in cities, and if the past rate of 
immigration to these great homes of art and trade 
shall continue, before the first quarter of the twen- 
tieth century shall be passed there will be 10,000,- 
000, more than one-half of our population, living in 
these congested centres. Yet there are indications 
that a counter movement is taking place, a move^ 
ment from the city to the country, not of its geru 
eral population, but of its wealthier men. The 

298 



POLITICAL FORCES 

facilities for railroad travel, the large extension and 
use of the telegraph and telephone, enable the busi- 
ness man to have his home — not temporarily but 
permanently — twenty, fifty or more miles away 
from the city, without interference with his occupa- 
tion. But this does not reduce the business of 
the city ; it does not lessen the strife ; it does not 
weaken the city's power, but rather extends the 
city's suburbs, practically widening its influence. 
The study of the growth, employments, and dis- 
tinctively human forces of the cities of the world, 
must bring into notice the influence of man over 
man in the type of life that is lived, the civiliza- 
tion that is made to prevail, and the dependence 
mentally of each upon his neighbor. 



CHAPTEE LXI 

POLITICAL FORCES 

Government is a necessity. It exists under a 
divine order of society. Paul says, " The powers 
that be are ordained of God." Government as an 
institution is divine ; anarchy is Godless. This 
much, at least, Paul means. But in its form gov- 
ernment is human, the creature of human intelli- 
gence. There are many things the individual can 
do alone — with little or no co-operation. In man- 

299 



MAN-BUILDING 

ual labor it is his own muscles at work. In the 
gaining of knowledge there is the action solely of 
his mental powers. The prosecution of business is 
usually largely personal, with only an outward de- 
pendence on others. A man keeps or breaks the 
law of the land in his individual capacity. Gov- 
ernments, except when purely despotic — and these 
we shall ignore in our discussion — are not the 
creature of the individual, nor the organ of indi- 
vidual action. They embody the will of the people 
as a mass — the will of the people in their collective 
capacity. 

Political movements are pre-eminently co-op- 
erative movements. They are the public — citizens 
jointly — moving for the achievement of some end. 
Whatever is done by the individual is usually in 
harmony with the plans of a body of voters who 
unite to effect some purpose in and through the 
government. The effort made is to rally as large 
a number of people as possible for the accomplish- 
ment of such a purpose. In this work men stand 
shoulder to shoulder, like the Macedonian army. 
They form a solid phalanx ; if they triumph, they 
triumph by force of numbers. A party is a politi- 
cal unit, a portion of the whole, agreeing on the 
tenets of their political faith. A platform is 
adopted by a convention or accepted through the 
operation of some special form of agreement. 
This agreement is the party shibboleth on which 
they appeal for votes. Every step taken recog- 

300 



POLITICAL FOECES 

nizes the public. To carry out party ends in a 
representative government, men must be elected to 
office. The first step is to hold caucases and con- 
ventions, to put persons in nomination, then going 
to the people to seek endorsement in the election 
of the candidates that thus represent the party. 

It would be difficult to point to anything else in 
our experience in which the sociological exerts a 
greater influence over us. The political press 
stands for party, and whatever it says is in advo- 
cacy of party dogmas. It is seldom that a discus- 
sion of principles is simply to enlighten individ- 
uals, but to draw them and bind them more closely 
to the party. Campaigns are organized by party 
leaders to influence votes. The people are called 
together, speeches delivered, appeals made to rea- 
son, to prejudice, to business interests, exalting the 
merits of one party and decrying the other, all to 
get the support of the majority. Printed docu- 
ments are scattered through every state and com- 
munity. A house-to-house canvass is made to 
feel of the public pulse and influence the voters. 
When the election day arrives special effort is made 
to get out every citizen who is supposed to have 
any party predilections. Whatever is done is for 
the triumph of party. 

In nothing else is there so complete a domi- 
nance of the many over the individual. It is rarely 
that opinions are independently formed. Leaders 
shape the creed and the mass accept it as a whole, 

301 



MAN-BUILDING 

without analysis. Generally the only question 
raised is, What does the party hold to? Platforms 
are constructed, in most cases, not to proclaim 
eternal principles, but to secure the favor of cer- 
tain industries, classes of people, or sections of the 
country. It is not statesmanship, but party as- 
cendancy, that is kept in view. And when a man 
enters the ranks of a political organization he is 
expected to stand by it even though a complete 
change of front may take place. The party carries 
and dictates the political creed of the individual. 
To this there are exceptions, men standing aloof 
when their convictions of policy have been set at 
naught, but such cases are by no means common. 
In politics men go in a body and keep step with 
the procession. And it is not easy to break out 
of the ranks. If it be done, the individual is 
branded as a traitor, or at least is called a rene- 
gade. All hopes of preferment must be surren- 
dered, for he alone is "faithful" who clings to his 
party rather than to principle. 

In nothing is there more peril to free government 
than in the tyranny of party. There are many 
ways of exacting submission to political dictation 
which are ordinarily effective, and it is not until 
these organizations completely betray public inter- 
ests, or get out of harmony with movements which 
appeal with great force to the public conscience, 
that the bonds give way and the individual is set 
free. In considering, therefore, the sociological 

302 



POLITICAL FOKCES 

forces which take hold upon human life, we dis- 
cover their action in almost irresistible power in 
the domain of politics and gOYernment. An in- 
dividual alone is impotent, he puts on strength 
only when he throws in his lot with others. 

The necessity of government, and of right gov- 
ernment, shows the importance of a general and 
careful study of the principles which enter into 
the structure of the state. Politics cannot be ig- 
nored, but there should be thrown into it more of 
intelligence, of conscience, and independence of 
action. With more intelligence and conscience 
there will be more independence. There is no 
mission of greater usefulness than the right guid- 
ance of the state. With us every citizen has a 
voice in the management of public affairs, and that 
voice should be lifted up in behalf of right that we 
may enact just laws, that liberty shall not be 
license but the ascendancy of reason in human 
affairs ; that all shall equitably bear the burdens 
which come from statehood ; that obligation shall 
be seen to be co-ordinate with privilege — to bring 
about the largest measure of happiness and good. 
Selfish politics is a perversion of statesmanship. 
The remedy is not to keep aloof from it, but to 
make personal, intelligent power felt for its re- 
generation and guidance. Thus will its influence 
over the lives of the people be purified, and civili- 
zation will be imbued with an ennobling spirit. 

Educationally, much depends on the principles 

303 



MAN-BUILDING 

upon which government is constructed, and upon 
the policies pursued. A despotism is repressive 
of rights, and hence deadens the inspiration for 
action. The individual deprived of opportunity 
to exercise political franchises, and freed from all 
obligation to exert power in behalf of public good, 
will not study the problems of statehood, he will 
be quite sure to remain unintelligent in regard to 
the great interests involved in civil affairs. Should 
he come to realize the wrong of despotism it is 
almost certain that he will verge to the opposite 
extreme of anarchy. In irresponsible power, des- 
potism and anarchy — the despotism of the one 
or the many — are near neighbors. The Czar of 
Russia, on the one hand, and the Nihilist, on the 
other, though standing at opposite extremes, are 
alike in discarding responsibility. Lawlessness is 
the legitimate result of irresponsible activity. In 
such a case, might makes right. 

Institutional government, in which there are 
wholesome checks, great energy, but held to strict 
accountability, in which every citizen is invested 
with rights on which authority rests for its exer- 
cise, puts the subject in the most favorable con- 
dition for individual education in the broad range 
of intellectual manhood. To be a citizen of a 
country thus governed, is to possess advantages on 
which the best life can be built as well as to have 
the highest security for personal good guaranteed. 
A despotic land is fated to keep on a low level 

304 



POLITICAL FOKCES 

of intelligence as well as of recognized rights ; but 
when civil power is in the hands of the people, 
under equitable regulations for its exercise, the 
trend is toward intelligence, and the political well- 
being of the people. 

Before closing this chapter we must not neglect 
to say that there is much of harm done by pre- 
vailing political methods. Partisan politics ex- 
erts a wide-spread influence for the forming of 
judgments on insufficient grounds. This engen- 
ders either shallowness or insincerity. No politi- 
cal campaign, no political movement, is carried for- 
ward with perfect frankness. On the one side 
truth is suppressed ; on the other it is greatly ex- 
aggerated. If truths are uttered they are largely 
half-truths, almost as pernicious as positive false- 
hoods. Everything is done in the spirit of the 
advocate, not of the judge. There is much reason 
for the charge that the leaders are dishonest — this 
certainly is true that most of them do not paint 
the picture with all the colors that should be in- 
troduced, or yet the colors employed are used in 
excess and with misleading brilliancy. This is 
seen in the partisan press, on the *' stump," and in 
private electioneering work. The educational ef- 
fect is not only a perversion of truth, but incom- 
petency to form right and candid judgments. All 
of this is greatly to be deplored. The public, 
without being aware of it, comes under the sway of 
these malign influences, and suffers at the core of 

305 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

character. Governments we must have, and po- 
litical forces must be employed, but the tyranny of 
party needs to be set aside and political methods 
reformed. This will be effected only by greater 
intelligence as to public affairs, and the injec- 
tion of more of moral integrity into political move- 
ments through the spirit of the gospel of Christ. 
It is a hopeful sign in these days that the num- 
ber of citizens disposed to examine both sides of 
political questions is certainly increasing. It is 
ardently to be hoped that they will soon hold 
the balance of power, and compel fairness of treat- 
ment of all problems involving political interests. 

The young man who surrenders himself to po- 
litical ambitions and follows the methods which 
now prevail, runs the risk of impairing his man- 
hood; he puts himself in a flood-tide of forces 
which are likely to sweep him far out to sea in his 
moral character. Immovable moral anchorage is 
needed for personal safety. 



CHAPTEE LXII 

THE CHURCH AS A SOCIOLOGICAL ORGANISM 

The religious is a universal sentiment. No 
nation or tribe has ever existed without it. It is 
therefore fundamental in human life, and to dis- 
card it in treating of man's nature would be the 

306 



THE CHUECH A SOCIOLOGICAL OEGANISM 

omission of an essential factor of his being. Intu- 
itively the race has a conviction of a supernatural. 
Christianity does not create this conviction, but 
turns the gaze away from false gods to the " only 
living and true God," revealed to us in the Bible. 
The religions of the world have been a potent force 
in human history, and Christianity, while it dispels 
the irrational superstitions which have had so large 
a place in religious beliefs, is not less effective in 
turning our attention to supernatural things. 

The energy of Christianity is in itself as a divine 
spiritual force. " The excellency of the power is 
of God, not of men." No external appliances or 
human agencies can effect spiritual transforma- 
tions. This, we hold, must come purely from 
some divine act. Yet the spread of the gospel is 
a great sociological problem. There is here a 
human element as well as a divine force, and 
through the human this divine force is applied. So 
far as there is any uncertainty in the prosecution 
of the work of saving men, it comes from that 
which is human. 

The Church has an organic life. It is a body of 
men associated together for mutual religious help 
and for the employment of means to carry the gos- 
pel to others. The Bible is a treasury of truths 
supplied the Church for its enlightenment and 
guidance. In this word Jesus Christ is made 
known to us as " God manifest in the flesh," bring- 
ing a divine life to the world. That the nations 

307 



MAK-BUILDlKa 

might know of Him and accept His offers of mercy 
the ministry was instituted under this explicit 
command, " Go ye into all the world and preach 
the gospel to every creature," with the positive 
declaration that they who accept shall be saved. 
This is the provision for the spiritual regeneration 
of the world. Men preaching Christ! Angels 
are not employed, and God does not carry forward 
the work independently of human agency. Two 
facts must be taken into the account : 

a. The power is of God. 

h. This power is exerted only in connection with 
human co-operation. 

These two facts must be considered together. 
That the human is employed does not weaken 
the evidence that a divine force is exerted. Yet 
the human is made always to condition the divine. 
We have no reason to believe that God transforms 
the life of any man except through, or in con- 
nection with, human agency. Power and pro- 
vision conditioning the exercise of power are quite 
distinct the one from the other, though each be 
necessary for the other. The most perfect loco- 
motive possesses no energy of locomotion ; and the 
steam in which all energy resides cannot of itself 
move the railroad train. But the locomotive holds 
the steam energy in its grasp and connects it with 
the train so that it can act upon it — this and this 
only it does — and the train moves. The power is 
all in the steam, but the locomotive is not less es- 

308 



THE CHUECH A SOCIOLOGICAL OEGANISM 

sential than the steam power itself for the accom- 
plishment of the desired result. The cannon does 
not hurl the ball out into space, and yet the ball 
would not go were it not for the cannon. The 
force is in the powder as it is converted into gases 
in combustion. But you desire that the force 
generated in the expansion secured should be ap- 
plied at a certain point and only in one direction 
— not in all directions — so the cannon is constructed 
to restrain this expansive force on all sides but one, 
concentrating it on a single line of action. The 
powder does the work, but the cannon supplies the 
condition in which alone the work can be done. 
The lens does not set fire to the combustible sub- 
stance when it brings the sun's rays to a focus. 
The heat was all in the rays before they were 
focalized. Its sole, but most important, office is 
in bringing to a point that which before was scat- 
tered. It does not make power, it utilizes it. 

God is in the heavens. He is invisible to mor- 
tal eyes. To Him all nations and peoples must 
turn to receive the benefit of His saving grace. He 
has therefore put in operation a scheme of human 
representation. He has commissioned men to go 
forth to proclaim His gospel to the peoples of the 
earth. The work is to hold up Christ, to keep 
Him in men's thoughts so that the divine Spirit 
can get hold of the conscience to perform His 
great work of transforming the life. 

In stating that the power of the gospel is not 

309 



MAN-BUILDIKG 

human we do not, as we have shown, depreciate the 
value of the human, we do not make it uninfluential. 
The spread of the gospel, the extent of results 
achieved, rests wholly on the fidelity and perfection 
of the human through which divine power is ex- 
erted. It will not be considered, then, a matter of 
indifference who and what the minister shall be 
who brings his message to the people. He who is 
learned can achieve larger results than the un- 
learned. Talent, scholarship, power of expression, 
strength of personality, are of the highest im- 
portance in the practical movements of the Church. 
The gospel accomplishes its grandest work when 
the ministry is most able, the appliances used 
most rational, and the Church is most nearly per- 
fect. It should be a matter of conscience to put 
on the most of personal strength through study 
and training for the work of the ministry. God's 
representative should strive to reach the highest 
grade of qualifications for his sublime calling. 
The military ordnance in use to-day is far more 
effective than that employed a hundred, or fifty 
years ago, even with the use of the same powder. 
This is not by the generation of more power, but 
by its more complete utilization through improved 
construction of the ordnance. The cannon of to-day, 
to continue our illustration, is the cannon of the 
past more highly educated. And surely human 
agencies need not be less responsive to efforts for 
improvement than the metal of which military 

310 



THE CHURCH A SOCIOLOGICAL ORGANISM 

ordnance is constructed. Scholarship commands 
more of truth, eloquence presents it in a more ef- 
fective manner, the greater ability to arouse at- 
tention opens the way more widely for the entrance 
of truth, so that with these favorable conditions 
the message presented is sure to be more effective. 
Writing up the influence of the religions of the 
world, we would be writing up largely the history 
of the world. The power they have sociologically 
exerted has been felt in every land, affecting every 
interest of society. China is what she is because 
of her religious dogmas. Her entire civil polity is 
an outgrowth therefrom. The worship of ances- 
try dwelling all about them has among the Chinese 
held back every improvement, made progress im- 
possible, and led to a type of life found nowhere 
else among the nations of the earth. Judaism 
built up a spirit of race exclusiveness which has 
not given way through these two thousand years. 
Buddhism is rest ; to not-be is the highest good ; 
not to rise by individual effort, not to develop the 
might of the personal, but to become lost or ab- 
sorbed in eternal repose; this is antagonistic to 
industry and repressive of personal ambition. 
Divine sovereignty, with no place for the indi- 
vidual will, would belittle man in the act of thus 
exalting God, and free will without divine sover- 
eignty would debase God. But divine sovereignty 
joined with man's free will preserves the author- 
ity of the Infinite, and makes man responsible for 

311 



MAK-BUILDING 

all his acts. Into every-day life our theology 
penetrates, and every interest is affected thereby. 
We call onr civilization a Christian civilization. 
That business is suspended on the Sabbath, with 
a general conviction of the sacredness of the day, 
not only indicates the existence of a religious 
sentiment, but spreads over the country a religious 
spirit. With this day come religious assemblies, 
that which is secular giving way to that which 
tells of God and an eternal future. Business 
acknowledges subordination to that which is re- 
ligious. No legal documents can be executed on 
the Sabbath. No work that would interfere with 
divine worship can be performed. And out further 
than this legislation reaches. The law makes the 
rights of religious bodies to church property as 
absolute as of the individual. The President and 
Governors appoint a day for special thanksgiving 
to God, and the citizen thereon is exempted from 
labor. The Chief Executive takes his oath of 
office on the Bible as a divine Word. Chaplains 
are appointed for the army, the navy, for congress 
and state institutions, and paid from the pub- 
lic treasury. All through our statehood there is a 
recognition of God, and no one can live in this 
land without coming under the influence of the 
Church in his conception of duty, of rights and 
privileges, and without gaining an education — 
whether he connects himself with the Church or 
not — in which the religious holds a large place, 

312 



THE CHURCH A SOCIOLOGICAL ORGANISM 

As through the order, machinery, and operations 
of political affairs, society of which the individual 
is a part, takes on some particular caste and gathers 
in some particular type of spirit, getting an educa- 
tion that is wrought into the very warp of life, so 
through the Church by means of the press, the 
Sabbath, the pulpit, the Sunday-school, the meet- 
ing for prayer, the Christian Associations, the state 
recognition of religious verities, a religious life is 
crystallized in our being and our education is far 
more than the product of the schools. The Church 
is a sociological organism established to act on 
society, through human instrumentalities to influ- 
ence and mould the body politic. 

The life which the individual lives is the result 
of unnumbered forces acting within him. Nature 
speaks to us from the earth and sky. The soul 
looks forth and catches inspiration from the phe- 
nomena of the outer world. The industries with 
which we must daily have to do, the companion- 
ship of friends, the ambitions in the state, the 
sublime realities in the spiritual world, the expe- 
riences through which we pass, the desire for a 
fuller knowledge of truth, the aspiration for that 
which is good or the craving for what is evil, all 
exert their power to make us what we are. Into 
the midst of all these experiences and movements 
comes the Church as a sociological agency to lead 
the thoughts to religious realities, and model the 
life of society according to a divine plan. 

313 



THE GATHERED THREADS 



CHAPTEE LXIII 

THE COMPLETE MAN 

The complete man is not the completed man. 
Man completed would cease to be man, just as 
the river with its banks full of water, but receiv- 
ing no new supply, is no longer a river, but a lake 
or a pond. Manhood is less what the individual 
is than what he is capable of becoming and seek- 
ing to be ; less the content of life than the trend 
of life. Complete manhood is a fulness of powers 
and a right disposition for the use of the powers. 

This treatise presents an analysis of the facul- 
ties of a human being. There are powers of 
cognition, energies of feeling responsive to the 
action of intelligence, and executive powers for 
the translation of intelligence and feeling into 
action. There is thus a unity of life constituted 
of diverse but co-operative mental forces. Associ- 
ated with these forces, and dependent upon them, 
but contributing to the realization of their pur- 
pose, is a physical nature. Man is spirit dwelling 
in a body which is both its servant and its mas- 
ter, listening to the commands of the spirit and 
supplying it with energies by which the pur- 

317 



MAN-BUILDING 

pose of life may be realized, putting it in con- 
nection with the outer world as a theatre for 
personal action. Through the genesis of his 
being he is a constituent of a race — in universal 
humanity — with interests in common with the 
race, with duties to perform, and subject to a re- 
active influence, of that which is about him, on 
his own life. He is the complete man, who per- 
fectly fits into his environment, who rightly acts 
upon it and employs his energies for the fullest 
realization of the purposes of his being. 

Intellectually this is not largely a question of 
scholarship, of the extent of knowledge gained, 
but of the ability to know and the reaching out of 
the soul after knowledge. The thresher is as 
actually a thresher before it does the work as 
after the work is done. The steamer is not more 
complete after it carries its precious load of life 
across the sea, than before it leaves the port. The 
man at twenty -five is as truly a man — though not 
with as large a mental equipment — as at fifty, 
provided the energies of his nature are as active, 
his ambitions for achievement as great, and his 
fidelity to truth and right as inflexible. 

In genuine manhood, manhood of the largest 
measure, there is a longing of the soul for knowl- 
edge, an intellectual trend, positive and intense, 
that is ceaseless in its pursuit of truth. Now, in 
God's life there is the comprehension of all veri- 
ties. As fundamental to Godhead there is infinite 
318 



THE COMPLETE MAN 

knowledge. If we are created in His likeness the 
intellectual must be an active energy in the great 
world of being. "When these powers are employed 
up to the measure of their capability, not falling 
below a right estimate of truth, on this side of our 
nature, completeness is manifested. The creation, 
in the midst of which we are placed, is the fulfil- 
ment of a divine plan, the unfolding and reve- 
lations of the thoughts of God. If these thoughts 
are important enough to be embodied in His works, 
they are surely important enough to merit our closest 
and eager attention. Indeed, we cannot account 
for their existence except to supply the intellectual 
wants of His creatures. God would not hold up 
to our gaze a perfect system of reason, sufficient 
to call into action all our energies of rational com- 
prehension, and fitted to develop the inner life up 
to its highest plane, did He not intend it for this 
special end. Every individual drops just so far 
below the life he was meant to live, as his knowl- 
edge is meagre compared Avith his capabilities of 
gaining it. 

The complete man is not only intellectually pro- 
gressive, but possesses sensibilities alive to the 
world of truth and reality in which he dwells. He 
sees beauty where there is beauty ; he is thrilled 
by that which is sublime; his heart responds to 
all that is pure and noble; his sympathies are 
aroused by every wail of distress, and joy glad- 
dens his heart when fortune smiles upon those by 

319 



MAK-BUILDINa 

whom he is surrounded. Right, justice, and mercy- 
awaken feelings of approval. The impulses of 
his heart are as active and true as the intellect is 
comprehensive. He scorns vice, he prizes virtue. 
That which is lovely brings to him pleasure, and 
every violation of the moral law gives him pain. 
His heart is as broad as his intellect, and delights 
in all that is good and spurns all that is evil. 
Keenly alive to the moral qualities of every act, 
his whole being spontaneously takes sides with 
those who are right, generous, and true. The com- 
plete man is manly, considerate of the feelings of 
others, and responsive to all the calls of humanity. 
Many persons fail to perform acts which reason 
endorses and the heart approves. He only is 
complete in his manhood whose steps do not lag 
behind his reason, whose practical movements 
keep up with his sympathies and his sense of 
right. It is a charge carrying with it the fullest 
condemnation when it is said, " Ye knew your duty 
but ye did it not." In complete manhood two 
qualities must characterize the will; it must be 
quickly responsive to the intelligence of the indi- 
vidual, and the action must not be less vigorous 
than the occasion requires. A feeble blow in the 
presence of a great emergency proclaims a lack, 
fatal to symmetry of life. Conscience can be sat- 
isfied only when duty is not only promptly, but 
fully, met ; when the choice agrees with the con- 
viction of the mind, and there is no hesitancy in 

320 



THE COMPLETE MAN 

making the decision that should be made; and 
when the whole life puts its powers at the ser- 
vice of reason and truth. Timid or feeble steps 
court defeat. 

We are not responsible for inherited physical 
defects ; but we are responsible for improper care 
of the senses through which we gain knowledge, 
and for the impairment of the health of the body 
which was intended to be the servant of the mind. 
"Mens Sana in corpore sano" constitutes the 
" summum bonum " of being. To trifle with bod- 
ily powers ; to allow them to become the slave of 
the passions ; to pervert their action from the pur- 
pose for which they were given, is a sin against 
both body and mind. Harmony with the high 
office and strict purpose of the soul, is the only le- 
gitimate function of the body. In the complete 
man the body does not dictate to the soul, reason 
is at the helm of life ; all the passions are in sub- 
jection, and the harmony of movement is secured 
by an attentive listening to the voice of enlightened 
conscience. 

God created each individual for a life here on 
the earth, in the midst of social conditions, from 
which he cannot lawfully withdraw. We are in 
this world of human beings to share with them 
great responsibilities. To disregard the interests 
of others, in our activities, is to commit a grave 
offence. The industries of life consist of labor 
applied to capital. Capital is the excess of pro- 

321 



MAN-BUILDING 

duction over consumption. Capital and labor are 
mutually dependent, for capital is useless without 
labor, and labor cannot find employment v/itliout 
capital. No one is entitled to the designation of a 
complete man who does not do the work of a man. 
In some department of industry every person 
should be employed. His capabilities represent 
duties; they stand for obligations; and to shirk 
obligations is to violate a moral law. He is faith- 
less who does not contribute something — and to 
the full extent of his powers — to the well-being of 
the race to which he belongs in a social partner- 
ship. Through each of us the capital of the world 
should become greater in the line of physical 
industries, or, at least, our fellow-men should be 
helped in some department of life by the efforts 
we put forth. Indolence is a crime against both 
God and man. To live in the world, exhausting 
its resources, is robbery ; to leave powers unem- 
ployed which could contribute to the general good, 
is reprehensibly to fail to carry our part of the bur- 
dens of life. It is the duty of every individual to 
do something toward the enriching of the world. 
To labor for personal ends only, shows incomplete 
manhood. 

There are political obligations resting on us, 
which obligations are not fully met by our refrain- 
ing to support the wrong; they require positive 
action for the support of the right. It is by no 
means a compliment, which the individual seeks to 

322 



THE COMPLETE MAK 

pay himself, when he says that he is not a poli- 
tician, that he has nothing to do with politics. 
Such a one asks the government to protect his 
rights, and yet does nothing to contribute to the 
strength and efficiency of government. He de- 
mands unrequited service. He takes what he is 
unwilling to pay for ; he is a constant debtor to 
society. This is moral bankruptcy. 

Not unfrequently as an excuse for irreligious 
acts we hear a person say that he is not a Chris- 
tian, that he makes no profession of a religious 
life. Is the admission of a wrong or defect a 
rational defence? The highest of all obligations 
is the religious — to honor God and promote the 
supreme interests of the race. These impose on 
us the duty of personal submission to divine au- 
thority, and of co-operation with God to carry for- 
ward the work of the regeneration of the race. 
Complete manhood recognizes existing obligations, 
and it carries with it an earnest desire to fulfil 
these obligations. Not, what must I do, but what 
can I do, is the spirit which prompts the per- 
formance of religious work. 

Without further enumeration we say that the 
principle involved is this, that being a member of 
the race it devolves on me to sustain fully the in- 
terests of the race; sharing in the benefits of its 
industries, receiving protection from the govern- 
ment, blessed by the spread of Christian truth 
and the prevalence in society of a Christian spirit, 

333 



MAN-BUILBING 

being a recipient of unnumbered blessings through 
and in connection with the life of the family of man 
under a divine superintending Providence, it de- 
volves on me as a man to do what I can to add to 
the happiness and advancement of the people in all 
their temporal and spiritual interests. To do this 
I should train the life God has given me for the 
largest measure of activity, and conscientiously and 
eagerly devote the powers I possess, to the spread 
of truth and the advancement of right. The com- 
plete man fully fills the place he was intended to 
occupy. In spirit, manhood is complete when it 
presses on toward this goal. It is not the largest 
achievement of desirable results thus far gained, 
but the strongest purpose and the most intense 
employment of powers to accomplish the good, 
for which the energies of our being were created. 
This is complete manhood. 



324 



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